


Kitavra

by CrystallicSky



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: Abuse, Alien Biology, Alien Powers, Alien Royalty, Alternate Universe - Aliens, But Not in Any Detail, Hello Plot Device, I Can Do Better Than This Now, Interplanetary Politics, Lots of Original Characters - Freeform, M/M, Murder, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Psychosis, mentions of mpreg, really - Freeform, secret life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-08
Updated: 2007-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:00:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystallicSky/pseuds/CrystallicSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kitavra: a far away planet with intelligent life, not too different from Earth. But what could all this possibly have to do with the Xiaolin-Heylin conflict, and what does it mean for the people involved?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally the first fanfiction I ever wrote. If you're wondering why it might not be up to snuff as far as my usual standard goes, that's the reason why.

A young man, in nearly-black robes of a dark blue shade, stood anxiously at the door to a throne room in an obviously impressive castle, if the door itself was of any indication. He wrung his hands in nervous anticipation as shouts and sobs echoed through the door.

"My ungrateful son has been gone long enough! LeatherKnife, you ensured his swift recapture! When do you intend to make good on your oath?!"

The gruff, livid voice was answered by a suave, calm one, though the undertone of pure malice made a shiver course through the very spine of the eavesdropper.

"Your majesty, you must be patient. The prince, though he tries very hard to hide, will not escape my grasp forever. In fact, I believe I've finally located the boy and now—"

"My baby!" a female voice sobbed hysterically. "Oh, is it true, have you found my precious Death?!"

The figure outside the door gave an exasperated sigh at the woman's shrieking, running a hand over his face and into his dark hair, brushing along two dark, wavy lines on the way. These lines began at the edge of his cheek, curving in the manner of an ocean's waves across the man's face until they joined into one sharp point upon the bridge of his nose. It was obviously not make-up or paint of any kind, else it would have smudged when the sweaty palm made contact with it. Bright blue eyes concentrated on nothing as he attempted to hear more of the conversation.

"Yes, my lady," The man's dulcet voice continued, spoken with the same intention one might use to coax someone to sip from a poisoned cup. "I'm sure it is the prince, for though his disguise is nearly perfect, he is unable to disguise his royal marks. Despite how convincing his act is, I can see right through it. I did raise him, after all, so I know his tricks. Sooner or later, though, he _will_ slip up, and that is when I shall return him to you."

The honey-sweet tone made the dark-haired man wince in recognition of it, even as another figure moved to stand next to him, this one with a black marking on the opposite cheek that decorated the left side of his face with an almost zig-zagging splotch, several splatter-like dots surrounding it.

"No, LeatherKnife! As his nursemaid, you are responsible for him, and four years gone is quite enough! You will not _wait_ for him to slip up. You will _make_ him slip up, and he will return to his home!"

The black-haired man and his new companion with shaggy chestnut hair and jade-colored eyes could _hear_ the smirk in LeatherKnife's voice as he answered.

"But, King...should he resist..?" He trailed the question off, not quite trusting himself to keep from showing his sick joy.

"He seems to trust his teacher and personal guard well enough, and so for this, you will bring ArcaneThorn," the dark-haired head perked up at his name, "and MauveBane," jade eyes focused on the door in interest, "in order to persuade him to return. If he does indeed refuse..."

The air was thick with nervous tension on the outside of the door, and though ArcaneThorn and MauveBane shared an anxious glance, LeatherKnife's voice practically floated through the door in rapture.

"Yes, your Majesty?"

"Use any means necessary for his capture."

The words settled in the air like lead, causing the hearts of the two men listening to drop to the bottom of their chests.

Preceded by a small, nearly psychotic chuckle, LeatherKnife's smooth voice, clearly contented with the words spoke once more. "As you wish, my King."

Quick footsteps approaching was the only warning before the doors swung open and a man with spiky, navy blue hair stepped between the two men outside the door. As his face, previously turned to the floor, raised to meet those of his companions, his black eyes and twin black slashes across the right cheek and the single slash across the other were all distorted by the maniacally wide grin he wore.

"Boys..." he began, "pack your bags. We're headed for a little planet called Earth..." His sentence once again trailed off as he walked off, cackling like a madman.

"Thorn..." MauveBane started after a silent moment as he fingered a rosy sleeve of his pink and black robes with one hand, and tightly gripped a Chinese-style lantern of no apparent use in the other. "You're smart. Scientifically speaking, what are the chances of Prince GoldenDeath returning to Kitavra _without_ getting hurt..?"

ArcaneThorn was silent for another moment, his hair still on end from the monster that passed as a nursemaid before finally answering his companion.

"With LeatherKnife involved? I would estimate less than five percent, Bane. I suspect that if the prince does indeed return to this planet, it won't be until after his blood has first been spilled." His grim tone left little room for hope.

"I was afraid of that..." MauveBane's muttered words seemed to reflect the true hopelessness of the situation, while over seven hundred million or so light-years away, said prince was having some troubles of his own...


	2. Chapter 2

"Aw, fuck, come on!" Jack yelped, dodging aside as a stray rock from one of Clay's attacks flew his way. "This is stupidly dangerous! Why am I here?!"

Somewhere in the background, he heard one of the Xiaolin losers make a crack about him, but he could care less. The silver sheen of his reason for even _attending_ this particular Showdown, as he had not done in weeks, maybe months, swiftly reminded him of the dire nature of his situation. He could _not_ stay here anymore, the danger was far too great, especially considering how close to home he was, and this Shen Gong Wu was going to be his ticket away from here.

The Gateway of Galaxies: quite similar in function to the Golden Tiger Claws, a single touch could send the user anywhere they needed to go, but not to specific places. _Un_ like the Golden Tiger Claws, the Gateway of Galaxies had a _much_ broader range. The small silver orb, with the activation of the Wu, would project a nearly life-size map of every universe in current existence (they tend to implode every once in a while). By touching one of the holographic planets, the user would end up in whatever universe on the planet they had touched.

Quite the useful Wu if you desperately needed to hide, and best of all for Jack, you didn't need to know where you were going. Easier to keep from being tracked if even _you_ didn't know where you'd end up. Yes, he had to get his hands on this Wu, even if he had to resort to...momentary exposure.

Currently, the monks were attempting to fight off Wuya (in human form) and several of his pathetic 'Jack-bots'. Really, a child could make something like that where Jack was from, and he really could do _so_ much better, but despite circumstances and the fact he didn't particularly _like_ his human adversaries, he didn't believe they deserved death. He simply couldn't bring himself to use lethal force.

Besides, it wasn't as if he really _needed_ any of the Shen Gong Wu before. He had _always_ been biding his time until this particular Wu had become active. After his own teleporter had run out of its power source, he had marked the Gateway of Galaxies as his only means of further escape.

Amazingly, and quite unusually, no one had actually made a grab for the Gateway yet, and no Xiaolin Showdown had yet been declared. Jack could only assume that the monks and Wuya both had allowed their tempers to get the best of them and had gotten caught up in their fight straight off, quite sure that Jack himself was of no threat or consequence. In that case, he must have been a better actor than he had thought he was.

"Perfect..." he muttered to himself, grinning slightly as he made a mad dash towards the orb. Out of the corner of his eye, he checked his surroundings.

Omi and Clay were squaring off against Wuya as a tag-team. Kimiko was in the middle of a swarm of Jack-bots, far from fighting her way through. Raimundo was a source of worry, however, unobstructed by obstacles and able to quickly intercept Jack on his way to the Wu. Thankfully, though, he seemed intent on getting to Kimiko and wasn't even acknowledging Jack's current trajectory. By all appearances, Jack was in the clear, able to quickly snatch the Wu and get the hell off of Earth! Just as his hand made contact with the cool shining metal of the orb—

"Spicer, how...unpleasant to see you here."

Shocked ruby eyes clashed with cool, elegant gold as the realization that Chase Young's hand lie on the Gateway in addition to his own.

 _"No! Damn it, I was so close!"_ he thought in frustration.

Calming the fury in his eyes until they seemed a detached sort of crimson, he stated confidently, "Chase Young...I challenge you to a Xiaolin Showdown."


	3. Chapter 3

"Have you lost what little passes for your mind? You have no chance against me," Chase laughed easily, "so just surrender now, Spicer, and I won't hurt you _too_ badly."

"Foolish boy! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!" Oh, Wuya, that damn hag...How dare she speak to him that way?! Did she not realize who she was dealing with?! After he'd wrested the Gateway from Young, he'd— _"No!"_ he told himself. _" I can't regress just yet! Let them think I'm a fool... It won't matter soon enough, anyways."_

"Come on, Jack, seriously, who are you kidding? You'll just lose! You always do!" Kimiko...rotten little—

"Yeah, the only thing you'd ever win is an ugly contest!" Did Raimundo honestly insist on being such a damned cocky—

"Honestly, Spicer's as weak as a jackrabbit on a griddle in the middle of July with a—" Oh, he couldn't even _translate_ that one! Clay was nice and all, but this just made him wonder exactly why he _hadn't_ built anything with lethal force!

"Yes, Jack Spicer is most crippled when it comes to physical activities!" Oh, Omi, the little round-headed fool! Taking the mangled idiomatic phrase to mean that he was lame, Jack lost his composure, if only for a minute.

For the shortest moment, Jack's posture became straight and dignified, aura wickedly dangerous, and expression livid with fury as his eyes glowed an odd shade of orange.

"Silence, you damnable fools, all of you!" he snarled viciously before realizing his slip and clapping a hand over his mouth, forcing his body language back into a submissive stance.

Only a few yards away, two brunettes were nearly overwhelmed with worry. Their prince had slipped, and their blunette companion would surely not let _this_ go. Oh, and he wouldn't, though he wasn't going to call Golden-boy on it just yet... He'd wait until the prince thought he was home free...

Dumbfounded faces stared at the redhead, though in the case of the dragon warlord, it was more of a mildly shocked look accompanied by a raised eyebrow.

In a quiet, questioning voice, Chase asked, "What on Earth has gotten into you, boy?" Truth be told, he kind of liked this new attitude Spicer had shown. It was interesting, at the least, to see him be so aggressive, so angry, so regal... He might have to rethink his opinion on the worm, now, if he could behave like _that_...

When he received no response from the young man, not even eye contact, he conceded, "Very well, Spicer, don't answer me, then. Name your wager and challenge."

Jack finally looked up at this, eyes red once again, and without batting and eye, he answered, "My Monkey Staff against your Serpent's Tail, in freestyle combat."

"I won't be using my Shen Gong Wu. I won't need it."

Meeting the taunt head on, Jack answered, "Neither will I."

"Spicer, you may not live through this. Just a warning."

"We'll see." The calm, emotionless response had just about everybody there baffled.

"Jack Spicer, you must surely be seeds to—"

"It's 'nuts', you imbecile, 'you must be nuts'!" The orange glow returned as he continued. "I'm not even a native here, and I understand your slang better than you!" Jack had never really felt anything but annoyance for the small monk, and now that he was leaving, he no longer gave a damn about his exposure. Though he was normally a calm person, if there was one thing that could expose his violent temper, it was insolence from an inferior, something he felt from Omi right now.

Was he not so sure he'd be leaving Earth soon, he would have used his unique ability to focus on his false persona as if it were reality, effectively supressing his true self, but as it was, he was indeed quite sure he was leaving, and no longer saw a need in hiding.

"Jack, I don't know what's up with you, but slang isn't limited to one place! It's pretty much global!"

"I know what I said, Kimiko, but thanks for the completely useless input. Look, I'm sick of talking. Young!"

Chase cocked his head to one side in question, internally bemused as Jack's personality 360.

"Can we fight already? I want to get the hell out of here soon, I've been here too long as it is!"

Chase smirked. "Of course."

"Gong Yi Tanpai!"

The Showdown now officially begun, and before anyone could make any comments on how ludicrous the challenge was, the landscape altered, forming sharp, tall spikes of rock in a manner that resembled a cage with the Gateway of Galaxies hovering fifty-or-so feet above it.

Deciding to make the first move, Chase appeared directly in front of Jack, fist already heading towards his solar plexus in an attempt to knock the breath out of him and easily take the match.

Imagine his surprise as Jack effortlessly caught his fist and, before he could react, turned his back to Chase, thus twisting his wrist at an awkward angle, before flipping him over his shoulder to the ground where he landed flat on his back.

Momentarily stunned, he didn't even think to block the open-palmed strike to his throat, and he gagged in pain. Where had the boy learned _this_? Where had he suddenly gotten this _power_?

Before he was struck again, Chase rolled and leapt up, narrowly avoiding a particularly forceful punch, and attempted a roundhouse kick that was, shockingly, intercepted by only the index and middle finger of his opponent's right hand.

Becoming furious at his humiliation by this...this... _ **boy**_ , he blindly threw a punch at his head. As is well known, rage can cloud one's focus, and the punch never made contact, though not because of Chase's anger.

In what should have been a physically impossible move, Jack, without otherwise changing his stance, bent back wards to plant his hands firmly on the ground, practically folding his spine in half in the process, before bringing the rest of his body upwards so that his heavy boot cracked hard on Chase's jaw, though no teeth appeared to be lost. Gracefully turning the move into some kind of flip, he landed back on his feet as if he _hadn't_ just bypassed all laws of human physiology, most likely because he hadn't.

After all, his people were rather flexible, in addition to several other innate physical traits impossible to those of human lineage.

Chase fell back a bit from the surprising force and style of the kick. _Never_ in his centuries of living had he encountered this method of fighting, and thus had no way to know what to expect, and since he didn't know what to expect, he wasn't sure how to counter or prepare for it. He vaguely heard Wuya and the monks, or as far as either current fighters were concerned, the peanut gallery, muttering in astonishment at not only Jack's sudden ability to fight, but at the fact that the 'mighty and powerful Chase Young' was losing to him.

What they thought mattered nothing to Chase, and at this point, he was so lost mentally that he wouldn't even _mind_ losing if that meant that someone would tell him what in the seven hells was going on?!

Mimicing Chase's own strategy earlier on, Jack dashed forward, slamming his fist into Chase's abdomen and deftly knocked the breath out of him in one strike. He then sharply brought his hand down on the junction of neck and shoulder, and for Chase, the world went black.

As he landed with a thud on the ground, the prize fell into Jack's waiting hand and the landscape shifted back to normal. A shocked silence settled over everyone watching as it dawned on them what had just happened.

Jack Spicer had just defeated Chase Young.

"Whoa... Did Chase Young get really weak all of a sudden, or what?"

"No, Raimundo, but I _am_ done acting." Jack activated the Gateway and mentally picked a random planet, yellow-green in color, before he spoke again. "And now I'm getting off this planet."

This was just about the time Chase came to, as the voice of an interloper made everyone freeze.

"Not so fast, Golden-boy."


	4. Chapter 4

Every head whipped towards the black-eyed newcomer and the two men standing almost dejectedly behind him. The smile he wore was less than assuring.

Orange eyes widened and Jack nearly dropped the orb in shock before he did the opposite of both in anger, glowing sunset slits glaring at the figure as knuckles turned white under the pressure exerted by them.

"LeatherKnife," Jack growled in recognition.

"Oh, Prince, it's so _nice_ to see you again!"

"Prince? What are you talking about? Who are you anyways?" queried Kimiko.

Attention switched, LeatherKnife looked to the monks, almost as if just realizing they were there, and he sneered in disdain before turning to Jack again.

"Ugh. Golden-boy, I know you don't want to go home, but _humans_? I had hoped to have raised you better than _that_ kind of behavior." He paused to actually inspect said humans this time: a cheeseball-headed idiot, an ugly little slut, a weird-looking smartass, and a burly cowboy. "Disgusting."

The cowboy stepped up. "What on earth are you talkin' about, partner? What's all this 'golden-boy' business, anyhow?"

With a shocked look, LeatherKnife answered, "Oh, they can talk!" Thus pleased with the indignant scowls he received, he continued, "Well, in any case, it's ironic how you used the phrase, 'what on Earth', because that's just your problem! What I'm speaking of has _nothing_ to do with Earth!"

Giggling sickly at the dumbfounded looks, he went on. "You see, we," he gestured to himself and the other two with him, "are what you'd call aliens from the great and powerful planet of Kitavra!" His voice filled with pride as he spoke the planet's name.

"And our _honorable_ King and _lovely_ Queen," he emphasized the words more out of sarcasm than respect, "miss their dearest son _so_ terribly, and I, out of the goodness of my heart, have come to take him home." The sugar in his tone clearly stated that this was true, but definitely not for the reasons he had said.

The orange irises turned a bit more yellow as Jack practically snarled at him. "I _won't_ go back."

At this moment, it seemed almost as if time had stopped for everyone but the Kitavrans, though both Xiaolin and Heylin sides were paying close attention to what was happening, most deducing that Jack was this 'son' that the disturbing blunette was referring to.

"Oh, ho, ho, ho!" LeatherKnife laughed. "I'm afraid you don't have a choice! ArcaneThorn! MauveBane!"

Jack gasped jumping back as MauveBane's lantern suddenly lit up and ArcaneThorn's arm raised in his direction.

"Bane! Thorn! What are you doing?!"

"We're sorry, Prince Death!" MauveBane looked conflicted as the light from his lantern formed several generic soldiers that then raced forward at the speed of...well, light, to tightly grip Jack's right arm.

"We've been given direct orders to use...any means necessary for your capture, and we're bound by LeatherKnife's orders." ArcaneThorn obviously felt the same as MauveBane about attacking his prince, though regardless, several 'ropes' of paper flew from his sleeve, all binding around Jack's left arm to effectively restrain him.

LeatherKnife sauntered up to the ensnared prince before speaking. "Still using your disguise? Lying to people is wrong, you know, and we can't have that, now can we?"

He tightly gripped the short red hair, twisting his head at an uncomfortable angle, before his hand began glowing black.

Jack screamed in agony as an odd red substance, looking almost like liquid latex, dripped from his hair, inexplicably revealing strands of a different color and length, and also from tightly closed eyes. After a moment of this, LeatherKnife let go, and Jack's head, now obscured by long, black hair with two gold-colored streaks, dropped as he panted through the aftershock of pain. As he caught his breath, he raised his head to lock yellow eyes, not a far cry from a certain dragon warlord's, with the onyx orbs of his tormentor.

Between winded gasps, he managed to force out, "B-bastard..." as his smouldering gaze clearly exhibited his distaste for this man.

Loosing a sadistic laugh, LeatherKnife held his finger just at the edge of the prince's cheek, before, out of nowhere, it morphed into a small blade.

"Goodnight, dark prince," he hissed mockingly before sharply slicing through the vertical slash mark just under his captive's eye. A pained yelp was the only sound before he promptly fainted from the agony.

ArcaneThorn and MauveBane exchanged looks of horror at what their 'companion' had just done. LeatherKnife, thoroughly unaffected, casually walked to where the Gateway of Galaxies had dropped during the struggle and activated it, swiftly locating the large, grey, planet known as Kitavra.

Without truly understanding why, just as LeatherKnife was about to transport himself and his companions, plus one unconscious heir to the throne, to the planet, Chase leapt up and gripped the shoulder of the guard in pink. In a flash, all five were gone, leaving the monks and Wuya to gape mindlessly at where they had disappeared.


	5. Chapter 5

With another flash of light, the three travelers and their 'guests' were in the middle of a lush garden of oddly colored plants, most of them with green petals and stems of blue and purple, clearly indicating that this was _not_ an Earth garden by _any_ stretch of the imagination. This was, in fact, the royal garden of the Eastern Kitavran Kingdom, or EKK.

The EKK was the royal family, and they had rule over the entire eastern hemisphere of the planet, whereas the Western Kitavran Kingdom, their opposite ruling force, had power over the western hemisphere. The system was effective enough, though this was really not the issue at hand for the users of the Gateway.

In a fury, LeatherKnife turned, swiftly gripping Chase by the throat and snarled, "How dare you?! No filthy _human_ should ever set foot on Kitavra!"

Chase, knowing something of what to expect from his fight with Jack _and_ fully expecting retaliation from this man, managed to intercept a punch aimed at his jaw before shoving LeatherKnife back several feet and shifting into his reptilian form in fighting stance.

"As you can see, I'm not _quite_ human," he growled at the psychopath.

MauveBane, who now stood aside from the fight, cradling the prone form of the prince bridal-style while ArcaneThorn was worriedly looking over the boy, decided to speak up.

"Ah, LeatherKnife," he began timidly, recognizing the homicidal gleam in the man's eyes, "couldn't we do this some other way? Um, it would seem that Lord Young is a powerful fighter, maybe he could...be useful to your cause...?"

"Powerful? Ha! He was bested by the most basic of Kitavran fighting maneuvers!" Chase scowled at the strike to his combat skills, though it was ArcaneThorn who countered the statement.

"True, but he held his own against you just now. He is a quick learner to be able to counter a fighting style he has only _just_ seen. Besides, I doubt Lord Young would wish to leave here now, so think about it: if we were to pass him off as a royal from the Western Kitavran Kingdom, he would be the perfect aid to your cause, yes?"

LeatherKnife's enraged countenance suddenly warped into his own distorted version of a smile as he replied, "Hm, yes, ArcaneThorn, that _is_ an idea. Maybe you _deserve_ the position of Royal Scholar, after all. I will go to the King and Queen to inform them of Prince GoldenDeath's 'return' and of our surprise guest. You two will make sure that Chase is well-informed of the situation and has an identity set up for when the royal fools begin asking questions. Remember, he must pass as Kitavran royalty."

With that, he turned and walked from the garden, leaving Chase to shift back to his human form, glaring uneasily in the direction the blunette had left. He then turned to his unfamiliar companions to further inspect the boy he had until recently known as Jack.

The onyx-black hair was slightly disheveled, the two golden streaks hanging over his face, which, even in unconsciousness, was stiff with pain. The red-orange substance dripping from the cut just under his eye, which Chase could only assume was his blood, slid steadily over the black mark straight down his cheek, and the dragon warlord couldn't help but feel an amount of contempt for the sadistic freak of nature that had caused it to do so.

He didn't know just why the small wound had affected the boy so much, but he knew he didn't like it.

"Ahem, Lord Young?"

He looked at the speaker and noted that it was the dark-haired one, ArcaneThorn, he believed. "Yes?"

At this, the one holding the black-clad prince stepped forward, and if the other was ArcaneThorn, then this man must surely be MauveBane. "If you'll follow us, sir, we'll explain everything."

Chase closely examined the two men, having seen that they were capable of battle, to assess their general threat level. MauveBane seemed harmless enough, fairly concerned and occupied with the young prince lying in his arms, and Chase decided to dismiss him as dangerous. ArcaneThorn, too, appeared to be of little threat, as his very _personality_ seemed to be submissive, and Chase was highly doubtful he would attack _anyone_ unless otherwise forced. "Very well, I will trust you...for the time being."

ArcaneThorn nodded in understanding and gestured to MauveBane to lead the way. As MauveBane shifted GoldenDeath slightly in his arms, making sure he wouldn't drop him when he started walking, the prince gave a soft, pained moan, mumbling quietly under his breath, "Chase..."

On pure instinct, Chase casually took him from MauveBane's arms and into his own, as if he had _always_ belonged there. At Chase's action, the two men gave him an odd look, which he returned with an expectant one, and they began walking from the garden.

At the new motion, GoldenDeath snuggled closer into his arms, and as Chase held him just a bit tighter, he couldn't help but wonder to himself, _"What have you gotten me into, boy?"_


	6. Chapter 6

Walking through the grandiose castle, Chase notice many similarities to a castle one might see in the medieval era, and he was beginning to wonder about how advanced this race was if they were _this_ far behind Earth standards. However, looking at the elaborate chandeliers, he noticed that they were lit electrically, and assumed that the Kitavrans must have preferred the building style to that of modern or futuristic Earth standards.

Speaking of electricity, a mechanical hum called the dragon's attention to a familiar bronze and black robot that was currently occupying itself...dusting?

"A...Jackbot?" he questioned under his breath.

ArcaneThorn, having heard the question but not the words to it, followed Chase's gaze to the mechanical servant. "Ah, yes, those. Kitavra is largely based around technology, and that is one of the most basic examples of such. It's not really good for anything, but they make handy cleaning drones, at the least. You know, anywhere outside this castle, the drones only come in chrome. We have them in those colors because when he was very young, the Prince," he gestured to GoldenDeath, "was tired of the color scheme, so the little rascal stole some blueprints and replaced every chrome robot with his own!" He laughed, "He loves gold and black. They're his favorite colors, aren't they, Bane?"

With a reminiscent smile, MauveBane chuckled, "Yeah, normally, he won't even _wear_ something that's not either black, gold, or both! Even hiding on an alien planet, he couldn't kick the habit!"

 _"Hm...how odd..."_ Chase pondered to himself. _"Away from that LeatherKnife, these two are actually quite normal. Well, as normal as aliens can be."_

This aroused a question in his mind that he simply had to ask. Glancing at the prince in his arms as the small group continued down the hall, he asked, "If you are truly aliens, why do you appear so similar to humans? What exactly is the difference?"

"Oh, that's actually pretty basic." MauveBane answered this. "See, Kitavrans are pretty similar to humans, biologically, though there are quite a lot of differences. For one, we all have these black markings," he gestured to the splotch on his cheek, "and while the shape and style of the marking doesn't mean anything, placement is everything."

"If the mark lies on any limbs, or the torso, it indicates that a person is just part of general society, a peasant, if you will. On either cheek, a mark will indicate that someone is a servant of royalty, a class above the peasants because we have higher social standing than they do. Me and Thorn are in that particular class. Royalty, however, like Prince Death, always have a mark centered around or coming from one or both eyes. All of this is genetic, and no kind of make-up or Kitavran ability of disguise can conceal it. As you can imagine, this keeps the social order pretty strictly intact. The marks are formed by a high concentration of melanin pigment and nerve endings, and that should explain why Death fainted earlier."

"An injury to a mark is horribly painful because of the amount of nerve endings that are there to be damaged, and if I had to compare to human standards, I'd say that inflicting a wound to anyone's mark is the honor-wise, and rivaling pain-wise, human equivalent of kicking a guy in the—"

"Bane!"

"Aw, what Thorn? We're all big boys here, you freakin' prude, get over it!"

They had just reached a black door, and since they had stopped walking, Chase figured this was the young prince's room.

"Ah, no, it's not that! Look!" ArcaneThorn's gaze gave away the meaning of his words, and, looking to the boy in his arms, Chase saw hazy, lemon-yellow eyes staring blankly into his own.

"Oh, Prince Death, you're awake," MauveBane stated blandly, opening the door for the other two.

As Chase entered the room, he noticed several things about it. For one, every last wall was painted black, making it quite the depressing room, and just as ArcaneThorn had mentioned, everything that wasn't black was gold, like the thick curtains and the frame of the bed.

The bed itself was a canopy bed, adorned with black silk sheets edged with gold embroidery. Chase figured that even on a completely different planet, the term 'gothic' would accurately describe the boy's preferred style.

GoldenDeath didn't even twitch a muscle as Chase lay him on his bed. He couldn't believe he was back _here_ again, after all his hard work! Jumping planets every couple of months until he got stranded on Earth and then coming up with a character to play that was _such_ a far cry from himself that he could avoid being caught, and for what? _**Four years**_ come to naught, all because of LeatherKnife's meddling! Oh, LeatherKnife, that damnable bastard! How dare he oppose Prince GoldenDeath?! Why, he could kill him with a single look! And speaking of looks, why was Chase giving him such an intense stare?

 _"Wait, Chase?"_ he thought. _"What is he doing here?! He should be back on Eart—Oh, he must have followed... Why, though? I thought he..."_

"Prince," spoke MauveBane, drawing him out of his reverie, "how do you feel? Not too worse for wear, I hope?"

He grimaced. "My head is pounding, I'm eight different _kinds_ of pissed off, and I would like nothing more than to choke the very breath from LeatherKnife's lungs."

"All quite reasonable," ArcaneThorn nodded resolutely.

"Eh, you're a trooper, Death, you'll be fine. Now where was I? Oh, yeah, Kitavran biology!" MauveBane must have had intense focus to still be on the topic.

GoldenDeath shot up. "What—oh, f..." he trailed off in an aggravated hiss as he fell back to the bed. "Dizzy too, how _wonderful_!" he growled in sarcasm, not even noticing the light touch on his arm by the one man he had ever considered an equal, much less a superior, on Earth.

"Easy, Death, I'm not giving him sex-ed or something, just the basics, alright?"

With a rough sigh, the prince nodded and closed his eyes, trying to block out the residual pain of his open wound while the guests in his room continued talking.

"Aside from the markings, there are physical differences, too. Like skeletal structure, for instance."

ArcaneThorn cut in, "Whereas human skeletons are firmly set, and break when bent past their limits, ours are flexible, and can twist and bend to the same effect of human muscles. You saw that first-hand when Prince Death dodged your punch earlier."

Chase nodded once, showing his understanding as MauveBane continued. "Not to sound arrogant, but the Kitavran race is biologically superior to the human race, though you _are_ the exception, Lord Young. After all, our blood type is global, we're more societally efficient, we can disguise ourselves and change our appearance, we have an accelerated healing rate, our males can reproduce—"

GoldenDeath cut him off with a look and the words, "No sex-ed, MauveBane," his tone now distinctly softer as the slice on his cheek had faded along with his anger.

"Right, right," he lightly acknowledged before continuing. "And our technology is so much more advanced. I mean, humans _themselves_ are just an ancient Kitavran experiment! Your theory of evolution is close, but _we_ were the big bang that created your whole galaxy! We gave you our most basic genetic blueprints, our language, and just about everything subconsciously! No human ever 'discovered' anything, we just put the suggestion in their mind dormantly, until it 'awoke' and humans would learn one more thing! You see, it all started when..."

Chase tuned him out as he babbled on about this 'experiment' that he personally had no care for, as he turned the last thing MauveBane had said over in his mind. Kitavran males could have children? Become pregnant? Thinking about this, he noted how much it would change Earth if human males had this capacity.

If children could come out of the union of two males, surely homosexuality would be more acceptable in the public eye. The main issue of two men or two women being together, other than it being 'sin', seemed to be that, since the couple could not reproduce, that the relationship was not meaningful and was simply centered around carnal pleasures. Perhaps with this development, people would cease their silly debates over a trvial thing that often had nothing to do with _them_ personally! But as it was, this was not the case, and there was still one last issue Chase wished to address.

Cutting into MauveBane's long, involved speech, (it seemed he liked this particular topic) Chase asked, "Weren't you instructed to inform me of some plan of LeatherKnife's?"

"Oh, _him_ and his _plan_ ," the sharp growl was back in GoldenDeath's voice as he ranted on, "I could tell you all about him!" The vicious scowl _somehow_ gave Chase the impression that the prince like LeatherKnife even _less_ than it appeared he had before.

GoldenDeath sat upright, regally brushing aside a strand of gold from his face before suddenly seeming to lose his confidence as he turned sheepishly to Chase. "Ah, it's a bit long..."

Chase smiled as reassuringly as possible. "I'm immortal. I've got time."

The young prince smiled back as he acquiesced. "Alright, then..."


	7. Chapter 7

"As you've probably been informed of the social system here, I assume you know that LeatherKnife is a servant of the royals, right?"

Chase gave a single nod for confirmation.

"Well, he was never very fond of that, as you can imagine. He refused to be satisfied with a life of servitude, and that's where _everything_ started, I suppose. My 'parents'," he spat the word as if it were poison, "chose _him_ as the royal nurse after my birth, when the previous nurse was found dismembered of, ahem, 'unknown causes.' It doesn't take a genius to figure out that LeatherKnife killed her to get closer to the royal family."

"Who let _that_ freak of nature pose as a nurse?" Chase queried, quietly shocked at the implication that the psychotic sadist had even been allowed _near_ children.

"Ha! I told you, my parents are to thank for my wonderful upbringing under LeatherKnife's wise guidance." The whole sentence was dripping with sarcasm.

Chase arched an eyebrow, perplexed as he wondered aloud, "Weren't they concerned for your safety at all?"

"Funny story, really. You see, my mother, though she loves me very much, is...well, suffice it to say _mentally ill_ , hysterical, even. She overreacts frequently to just about everything and so if she had actually noticed that LeatherKnife was a bit off-balance, anything she might have said would be dismissed as a phantom of her own lunacy. My father...well, he's a different story entirely."

"Since I might as well tell you this now, you should know that the reason I was born was to be a weapon. MauveBane left this out earlier, but each Kitavran is born with a unique and special ability. We aren't sure why or how this happens, but you've seen it yourself through ArcaneThorn's command of paper, MauveBane's light sentinels, and LeatherKnife's ability to shift his body into various blades. You see, these powers normally manifest in early teenage years, when the strength of the ability has become amplified enough to be seen. But then I've never really been normal, so why would my ability be?"

"To know the significance of my power, you'd have to know the significance of my name. In our custom, since a Kitavran individual is only able to produce one child per lifetime, the first half of a child's name is the same as the father's and the second half is the same as the mother's. In that case, my name _should_ have been CrimsonRain, but I was named differently."

"When I was born, I killed the doctor delivering me, though unintentionally, with my power, and for the manner in which I killed him, I was given my name. The man truly died a 'golden death', because if I happen to make direct eye contact with someone while in a state of distress, their entire body will turn to solid gold, and 24 karat hearts don't beat, now do they?"

The silence in the room was deafening.

"Although now, I have a bit more control over it at this point. I've gotten good enough to turn it on and off at will, and it will only activate _itself_ under the most _extreme_ conditions of stress. Either way, though, because of my ability, my father saw my potential as a perfect killing machine. After all, if I could kill _one_ person as a newborn, imagine how many would be possible in later years! In any case, though, I am nothing but a weapon as far as my father is concerned, and so long as I'm _alive_ , he could care less as to how LeatherKnife, or anyone else, treats me. Unfortunately, the psycho knows this, and I'm quite sure he intends to take advantage of it in his scheme."

Chase inclined his head in question. "Which is?"

GoldenDeath sighed, wishing he didn't have to talk so much, but as it seemed that his guard and his teacher weren't going to pick up the story, he continued. "He plans to overthrow my father as king and dominate the planet."

"Wait a minute, Prince, isn't that what you're trying to do?" asked a confused ArcaneThorn.

GoldenDeath scowled, clearly offended as he retorted, "Yes, but _he's_ cheating! Evil or not, that's wrong...most of the time...in this case, it is!"

Chase chuckled in his mind. That certainly sounded a lot like the Jack he had known. Well, as it goes, the Jack he knew was a lie, though they _do_ say that all lies are based on a _little_ bit of truth. In any case, he was really beginning to like his new prince...

 _...his_ prince?

"Ahem, I say he's cheating because he plans to kill my whole family, including me, and then usurp the throne. I, however, plan to kill my father, retire my mother, and rightfully _inherit_ the throne. That's about all there is to know. My father wants galactic conquest, LeatherKnife wants the throne and my death, and I want to rule. You can see the conflict of interests here."

Chase nodded, thinking hard. It was obvious that LeatherKnife intended to use him, most likely for his dirty work. Well, then, he had another think coming! Chase Young bows to no one! But in that case, whose out of the remaining two sides should he take? He could feel that the forces in conflict were of considerable power, and the whole ordeal would be far less trouble if he either stayed out of it completely or picked a side. It was already too late to avoid the situation, as he had no real means of returning to Earth, and at this point, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to.

The way his instincts were leading him were beginning to make sense, and it was becoming clear as to why his attentions were so...focused on the young prince. He had _always_ been territorial, and back on Earth, Jack was _so_ submissive in his presence. It made sense that his instincts labeled the boy as property, _his_ property, _his_ territory.

It had never before been important, however, because that had been all he was: property. Equivalent to a vase, or a painting! But then, _this_ whole ordeal had happened, and Jack was revealed to be nothing more than a facade for someone...well, someone _far_ more worthy of Chase's time. Things had become different, his property was submissive no longer. GoldenDeath appeared to have a strong will of his own, and would no longer be cowed by an angry growl. As the thought crossed his mind, he made his choice.

"GoldenDeath, I will be your ally." It would be far easier to train his new pet if he was as close as possible to him.

Mildly curious, the prince asked, "What about LeatherKnife? He believes you to be allied with him."

Chase smirked. "I never promised anything to him. I just never corrected him otherwise. Besides, my word is my bond, and I promise my loyalty to you...for the moment."

Smirking right back, GoldenDeath answered, "Well, then, it seems we have an alliance, Chase Young."

For a moment, gold and yellow met in agreement until the stare was abruptly broken.

"Uh, I hate to interrupt the lurve tonight," MauveBane started awkwardly, "and this _will_ be the fruitiest thing I'll probably _ever_ say, but..." he trailed off, altering his tone into a high pitched, feminine one.

"It's time for a make-over, Chase!"


	8. Chapter 8

Tapping his foot in the manner of someone quite impatient, Chase stood, annoyed beyond all reason, in front of several mirrors in a very pink, very frilly room. Seriously, the _mirrors_ even had ruffles around the frames! Not only did the sudden transition of black to neon pink give him a headache, he was incredibly put off by the femininity of the room. All in all, Chase was not amused.

"Okay, Chase, it's time to make you beautiful!" The high-pitched tone was still there, but it disappeared when MauveBane said, "Really, though, Lord Young, we'll help you fit in here. But, like LeatherKnife said, you'll _have_ to pass as royalty. Hmm..." He paused, inspecting the indignant warlord before reaching the conclusion, "Well, you have the royal 'look', that's for sure."

"I am the Prince of Darkness!" he retorted, agitated at this 'make-over' thing.

"Well, that's definitely a good start! But now, we've got to focus on the rest."

"The rest?" Chase questioned, arching an eyebrow at MauveBane, though ArcaneThorn was the one who answered him.

"Yes, Lord Young, attire, a name, identity, quite a lot of things to invent, actually. Sometimes I wonder just how the prince manages to create so many false characters without actually becoming them!"

Chase sighed and face-palmed before resigning to ask, "What _is_ this room anyway? It's disgusting."

"Besides that and 'horrifying', it's my mother's personal beauty parlor."

Looking to the door, Chase saw a smug-looking GoldenDeath leaning against the doorframe, not even _attempting_ to hide the amusement he found in his faux-guardians playing dress-up _and_ pretend with a nearly helpless Chase Young. Oh, he would get revenge for this humiliation, the boy would _not_ get away with this!

Looking him over, Chase noticed that GoldenDeath had opted to change his attire, also noting that his choice only added to his regal aura. He had replaced the heavy trenchcoat and red shirt with a black sleeveless top that had a slightly high collar, which came up until just over his Adam's apple. The shirt was clasped along his left side, the same area where the bright golden trim of the shirt branched across his chest into an intricately emblazoned dragon that was poised proudly over his heart. In addition, this was complemented by a loose-fitting pair of jet-black pants and normal black boots instead of the usually clunky ones, and last but not least, a black and gold bracelet dangled from the thin wrist.

Staring slightly at how well the color black complemented the lithe body, Chase's mind began to drift a bit, though he _attempted_ to return to his original train of thought. Yes, he could definitely get _revenge_ on the prince...but no. He had lived for 1,500 years, and he had more patience than that, though he was sure of one thing: he was definitely going to like having GoldenDeath as his new pet.

Finally answering GoldenDeath's earlier statement, he prompted, "I take it your mother likes frilly things...quite a bit?"

"Heh, yes, she's very feminine, if it doesn't have ruffles or pink, it's not for her. After she...went crazy, my father forbade her from coming here. Now, no one uses it unless my mother is required to prepare for a ball or other special occasion, and even then she's not allowed in alone. My point is that there should be relative safety here from prying eyes."

Without warning, Chase felt the cool sweep of a wet paintbrush under his right eye in a sharp stroke that curved outwards to the edge of his cheek, followed by a short line through it just before the end of the curve.

"There now, Lord Young, so long as your careful not to smudge it and remember to repaint it every morning, you'll undoubtedly pass as Kitavran royalty."

ArcaneThorn's smile of accomplishment was interrupted by MauveBane, who seemed to be on a roll today, when he said, "Now, darling, we simply _must_ do something about that outfit!"

Chase gave a guttural growl, demanding, "And what exactly is wrong with my armor?"

"Well, despite the fact that it's _so_ last millennium, on this planet, anyone over the age of nineteen is generally expected to wear robes. It's a customary thing."

Chase suddenly recalled something. "What of LeatherKnife then? And GoldenDeath? I've not seen either of _them_ in robes since we've arrived here."

Laughing slightly, GoldenDeath pointed out, "I'm only eighteen years, Chase."

"And LeatherKnife?"

"Oh, he's just obnoxious. It's customary, not mandatory."

"Then why do I have to—"

"Unless you want to look obnoxious, you'll just wear the robes, Chase. They're not _that_ bad, you know."

He sighed and relented, giving a short nod of acceptance to the two hovering men looking expectantly at him. It was a trivial issue, so he didn't mind giving in to his wishes now. Soon enough, the _boy_ would be the one obeying _him_ , so why get all upset over something like this?

MauveBane appraised Chase quickly before speaking,"Hmmm...you'd look good in black or another dark color, I'd wager...What do you think, Thorn?"

"A dark green would be best. I think that would complement his eyes nicely...and it would match his hair quite well, seeing as how it has that, almost 'forest' sheen to it, don't you think?"

"Oh, for SacredHeart's sake, you two!" GoldenDeath interjected, and at Chase's mild confusion, he quickly clarified, "Ancestor of legend, like Earth gods and goddesses."

"What, Death? What did we do?"

"You're acting like your own stereotype! You aren't fashion designers, we're just giving Chase a disguise, alright? Now, MauveBane, go get Chase something to wear, and ArcaneThorn, you can do his hair."

After MauveBane left the room, ArcaneThorn practically shoved Chase into a chair in front of a mirror as he ran a pale blue, bejewelled comb through the dark mane of hair.

As his head was jerked backwards by a particularly vicious pull, Chase prompted, "Stereotype?"

"Oh, Bane and I are...well, we're partners..."

If there was anything Chase Young wasn't, it was stupid. He understood what the man meant in the space of a heartbeat, and it suddenly made sense that ArcaneThorn and MauveBane might seem like a mom and a dad to GoldenDeath, because that was what they essentially were: a childless couple who had adopted an unloved child. It made quite the sweet picture, actually.

"I see... Are you happy together?" Chase asked, merely making conversation.

ArcaneThorn smiled fondly. "Yes, we're very much in love. You know, he's actually quite sweet when he wants to be."

His hair brushed until it shined, Chase was allowed to stand from the chair at just the moment MauveBane reentered with a silky-looking dark green robe, trimmed on the edges with black.

Taking the fine cloth from the green-eyed man, Chase looked to GoldenDeath, casually wondering whether they intended to leave while he changed or not.

"Before we go Chase, you're a dignitary from the WKK and your name is BlackDragon. Not creative, but it doesn't really matter, does it? Now, I doubt you don't already know, but I'm telling you anyway: Things here are going to get pretty crazy, so hang on for the ride."

As they shut the door behind them, Chase was sure that GoldenDeath's words would prove right soon enough.


	9. Chapter 9

Quietly sauntering through a particularly richly decorated hallway, flanked by both ArcaneThorn and MauveBane, Chase pondered several things that may or may not prove obstacles to him, right now, one of these being the royal family he had not yet met. At the moment, there wasn't much else to worry about, though. The simple disguise was obviously working well enough, if any of the reactions he was getting from the odd few female maids not replaced by robots were any indication.

They were _disgusting_ , cooing and gossiping about the 'handsome new prince' and how they hoped to SacredHeart that he wasn't yet married. Ha! As of these pathetic women deserved the attention of Chase Young! What a farce, what a joke! Why would he waste his time on them when he could have something _so_ much better...

"I know you won't be happy about it Chase," GoldenDeath began in a hushed tone, "but at least act like you think my father is more powerful than you. We both know how much of a lie _that_ is, but just to keep up appearances, alright?"

Chase gave a soft, agitated growl, but nodded nonetheless. After all, shouldn't his aim be to impress GoldenDeath's parents?

As the bejewelled doors swung open, held by the two brunettes that were no longer on either side of him, Chase took the opportunity to inspect the lavish throne room. Well, not really the throne room _itself_ , more like the people...Kitavrans _in_ the throne room.

He instantly noticed LeatherKnife far off to the side, noting petulantly the murder in his eyes as he stared at the prince, who, Chase also realized, was making a point of ignoring the onyx stare. Around the two thrones, as he had expected from the beginning, were several guards meant to intimidate any who saw them with their size and build, but they were completely unimportant. The two figures on the thrones, the King and Queen, were who was really important.

The woman, Chase knew, that had her seen her in _any_ other place, he would have recognized her as the queen, as GoldenDeath's mother. It wasn't the bright pink dress she wore, embroidered with white flowers, that gave her away, but that she shared many physical features with her son. The elegant arch of the eyebrow, the smooth bridge to the nose, even the soft curve of the cheek connected the two together. In any case, the woman's shining golden-blond hair was gently brushed over one shoulder, obviously where the two bright streaks in her son's otherwise dark hair had come from, and her sky-blue eyes were lightly dusted on the lids with a pale, pastel shade of pink. Under her eyes, going well onto her cheeks, were black, staccato lines crossed by another, similar, but shorter line just at the top of her cheekbone, making her face seem kind and welcoming by adding to her smile.

Her crystalline blue eyes filled with joyous tears, however, the moment she spotted GoldenDeath, and she dashed from her throne to tightly embrace him.

"Oh, my baby!" she sobbed. "My sweet little Death, you've come home!"

"Ah, yes, mother, I've returned..." he said, putting his arms lovingly, if a bit hesitantly, around the woman.

"Well, it's about time you came crawling back!"

The rough, angry voice pulled the attention of everyone in the room to the larger of the thrones, where Chase could already see the haughty king rising and stalking towards the black-clad prince.

"After all I've done for you, given you a home, food, raised you all this time, and you repay me with this, you ungrateful little bastard?! Gallivanting off to some primitive planet for four years when you _should_ have been here, training yourself to be ready at my beck and call?!"

Now standing beside her son, the Queen looked on in worry, recognizing full well the fury in her husband's eyes.

Offended at the implications to himself at his father's words, the indignant prince snapped, "You may have given me a home and necessities, but you _never_ raised me! You were _never_ a parent to me!"

Chase examined the man advancing on his pet, quickly sizing him up. He had long black hair tied back in a red ribbon with dark, straight bangs hanging over his face and accenting furious yellow-orange eyes. By the creased brow and the scowling mouth, this man was obviously seething with boiling rage. The almost-spiral shaped marks hooking down from his eyes, though might appear innocent on anyone else, only added to the menacing countenance. The muscled and well-built body under his robes and blood-red cape added yet more to the threat of intimidation.

This man was dangerous, and yes, Chase realized, an immediate threat to what was rightfully his, GoldenDeath. LeatherKnife, at least, seemed to prefer psychological torture to physical, which could quite obviously not be said about _this_ man. In any case, Chase had a role to play, and so he merely watched as the scene of the dysfunctional family played out.

"CrimsonClaw, please don't—"

"Silence, EtherealRain!" snapped the king, shoving his wife aside and knocking her to the floor.

Chase was forced to use all of his restraint to keep from tearing the man to pieces when his hand, now oddly red, gripped his pet by the throat and raised him off the floor in one deft motion.

Growling low under his breath at the insult of this man even _touching_ what belong to him, much less _hurting_ him, Chase watched as GoldenDeath's hands scrabbled uselessly at the grip around his neck, desperately attempting to free himself, even going so far as to attempt _eye contact_ to cease the assault.

Having none of it, CrimsonClaw squeezed tighter on the boy's windpipe, causing the veins in GoldenDeath's throat to glow a fluorescent red _**through**_ the skin. His countenance became even paler than it already was, and sweat dripped from his suddenly exhausted face as he practically stopped _trying_ to breath through the vice-like grip.

Leaning forwards, CrimsonClaw snarled in his ear, "You are _nothing_. You're a tool, not even worthy of the title of 'Kitavran.' You belong to _me_ , and you will do as I say, understand?!"

The grip around his throat finally loosened and GoldenDeath flopped bonelessly to the floor, still gasping and shaking violently from the glowering fires that flowed through his very veins and arteries. Though collapsed on the polished marble floor, he did his level best to give an acceptant nod to his waiting father.

"Say it, boy, I want you to say it!"

Pulling himself to his knees, he barely managed to gasp, "I'm nothing...your t-tool...I'm your property...nothing else."

"Good, now get up!"

The flames receding slightly from his body, GoldenDeath shakily got to his feet and met his father's stare.

Sneering in a dismissive manner, CrimsonClaw scoffed, "Pathetic," before turning to Chase and adding, "It's a pleasure to have _you_ here, however, Prince BlackDragon. LeatherKnife has told me all about you. I only hope your stay isn't poisoned at all by my worthless excuse for a son."

Forcing a calm tone, Chase glanced to said prince, whose eyes were firmly fixed on the floor, and replied, "Oh, don't worry, your highness, it shouldn't be _too_ much of a problem."

Giving a curt nod, the King suddenly snapped, "ArcaneThorn, MauveBane! Lead our guest to his chambers and do _something_ with the other one."

Bowing in unison, they answered, "Yes, sir."

Exiting the throne room, GoldenDeath stumbled, falling halfway onto Chase's shoulder before shakily attempting to steady himself.

"S-sorry, Chase, it's just that my father has the ability to pass a sort of radiation into the bloodstream through physical contact. It's usually enough to knock just about anyone off their feet for a few hours, but lucky for me, I'm used to it. Heh, sorry, though..."

Pulling one of the prince's arms over his shoulder in a supportive manner, Chase easily answered, "No need to apologize, I understand..." Turning to the two servants, Chase instructed, "Why don't you two go spend some...quality time together? I'll take him back to his room."

"But...Lord Young..." began ArcaneThorn.

MauveBane finished the question. "What about you, then?"

Chase waved a dismissive hand. "I remember where the guest chambers are, now go."

"Well, if you're sure—"

"I am, and I won't ask again. Go."

"Sure thing, boss!" And with that, MauveBane practically dragged ArcaneThorn down the hall, leaving the prince and the overlord alone in the otherwise empty hallway.

In complete silence, the two walked along, Chase supporting the understandably weakened boy, until they at last came to the black door of GoldenDeath's room.

"Ah...Chase...tha—"

His 'thank you' was abruptly cut off as Chase shoved him against the wall, roughly forcing his lips against his captive's. Not even waiting for a response, he pulled away and gave a sharp growl of dominance at his ear.

" _Mine_. Not his, only _mine_."

With that, Chase placed a vicious bite on the shell of the prince's ear, leaving a defined and bleeding mark, before suddenly turning and stalking off down the hall.

Fumbling with the doorknob a bit, GoldenDeath, after entering his room, slid down the door until he was in a sitting position.

Absent-mindedly, his hand reached up to the slightly-bleeding bite mark, and he noted that it was too deep a bite in too shallow of flesh to heal quickly and that it might actually leave a scar. Of course, he wasn't _really_ thinking about any of this. His thoughts were too scrambled at the moment to be very coherent.

_"Why did he...what..? Oh, for SacredHeart's sake, could this whole thing get any more complicated?!"_


	10. Chapter 10

"Wow, and to think you used to be a bookworm!" exclaimed MauveBane breathlessly, lying under the covers as he looked up at the ceiling.

However, he turned to his partner at the indignant, "Used to be?! I'm still a bookworm, thank you very much!"

ArcaneThorn was lying on his side, clearly offended, though one of his hands remained on MauveBane's bare chest.

MauveBane smirked lecherously. "I never said you weren't, I just think you're a _kinky_ bookworm now."

Thorn scowled, demanding, "You'd best wipe that look off of your face right _now_ , Bane, or I might get it in my _kinky bookworm head_ to dump you!"

In a tone that suggested he knew something the other didn't, Bane answered, "Dump me? Oh, whatever would I do without you? Ah, I guess that settles it then, I'll have to marry you to keep you around."

"M...marry? What?!"

Moving from the bed to the floor, MauveBane got down on one knee in front of his lover.

Pulling a velvet box from under the bed, he opened it, revealing an intricate golden band studded with sapphires.

"ArcaneThorn...will you marry me?"

Tearing up, the man practically jumped on MauveBane, sobbing out, "Yes, Bane, yes! Of course I'll marry you, you idiot!"

Starting out this way, the day was sure to be monumental, though good or bad, it was hard to tell.

 

* * *

 

Sun glinting off of spun gold curtains nudged GoldenDeath out of his...well, _dead_ sleep, no pun intended, and he sat up in his bed groggily, almost against his will.

Half-asleep, he looked at the calendar on the nightstand before giving an annoyed huff, grumbling, "Mondays be damned by SacredHeart herself! If only it were possible to remove them from the very week!" His more childish side coming through, as an afterthought, he added, "Like in that old Earth cartoon, Garfield. It's too bad Kitavra has no wishing well, then."

Dragging himself out of bed, he sluggishly got dressed, wishing it were Saturday instead, until his sleep-ridden mind finally acknowledged something.

"Ah, damn, it's the seventeenth!"

Oh, the seventeenth, the bane of GoldenDeath's existence, no offense meant to Mauve _Bane_ in saying this, of course. Since he was young, he'd absolutely _hated_ , no _loathed_ the seventeenth of August for one simple reason: it was his birthday.

Damn.

It wasn't as if he was without reason to hate his birthday, though, he had _very good_ reasons. Mainly LeatherKnife and his father, because somehow, they had warped ideas of birthday presents, the case of his last birthday on this planet ending in him nearly requiring a trip to a hospital. Sometimes, GoldenDeath was pretty sure that what humans called 'karma' hated him.

But then, maybe this birthday would be better with Chase around.

Oh...Chase.

What had gotten into the man last night, anyway? Looking self-consciously in the mirror, he noticed that, yes, the bite had left a very visible scar on his ear. Since GoldenDeath's hair was relatively long, and he wasn't very partial to putting it behind his ears, the mark would easily be out of sight and not openly noticed unless someone was looking for it, though he wasn't so much bothered by who _saw_ that he had been marked, so much as the fact that he _had_ , indeed, been marked.

"Why would Chase—"

His thoughts were cut off when there was a hurried, almost frantic knock at his door. Hopefully thinking that, maybe, his father had passed on, he quickly stepped to the door, opening it, only to be nearly knocked over by a joyous hug.

"ArcaneThorn? What are you doing here so early?"

"Oh, Death, there's wonderful news!"

His hopes up, he asked in rapid fire, "My father had a stroke? LeatherKnife is being taken to an institution? Mondays have been destroyed?"

"What? No, Bane popped the question! We're engaged!"

Eyes lighting up, GoldenDeath replied, "Really? That's great, I'm happy for you two!"

The two turned to the door when they heard a voice say, "Death, I love you like a son, but get off of my fiancé."

With a loving exclamation of, "Bane!", ArcaneThorn practically jumped into his lover's arms, cuddling into him almost immediately.

Giving the couple a sly look, GoldenDeath addressed MauveBane, "So, you're finally getting married, eh?"

"Ha, yeah, kid. I thought it might make a nice present if your parents finally decided to tie the knot on your birthday."

Losing the good mood, he frowned to the point it could almost be a pout. "Don't remind me, I _hate_ my birthday."

MauveBane attempted to cheer him up. "Well, at the least, you'll get _one_ good present this year, right?"

Half-smiling, GoldenDeath conceded, "Yeah, this _is_ a good present. Thanks, guys."

"Well, believe it or not, Death, but your father has given us specific orders stating that he wants to see you. No exceptions."

He sighed once, and replied, "Alright, then, if I must."

The three then left in the direction of the throne room, not even noticing the golden eyes watching their every move.

Lurking in the shadows of the hallway, Chase Young quietly wondered aloud, "It's his birthday? Well, then, I suppose I'll have to give him something _special_..." And with that, he stealthily followed the small group through the maze-like halls.

Soon enough, a small panic was apparent, servants dashing about hurriedly for some unknown reason. Said reason soon became obvious when one servant ran off with blood coating his hands.

Worried now, GoldenDeath snatched aside a frantic maid and demanded an explanation of her.

"Oh, Prince, it's terrible," she sobbed, "the Queen—"

"Mother?! What happened to her?!" There was a concerned urgency in his voice.

Unable to speak through her tears, the poor woman could only point to the door where the commotion was. The sight that met GoldenDeath's sun-like eyes made him sick to his stomach.

The scent of blood blocked his senses, even as he saw a blond head with sky-blue eyes, now dull in death, carried from the room, and worse, not attached to a body.

Wide-eyed and feeling numb, he brokenly muttered, "Mom...", before running recklessly into the room from which the decapitated head of his mother had come.

He screeched to a halt once inside, shakily gasping at the scene. "Oh, SacredHeart..."

Blood was spattered across every wall, every surface of the room. Limbs were strewn upon the bed and floor, and GoldenDeath absently noticed that this was his parents' chambers.

Even worse than the blood and limbs, however, was his mother's torso, lying torn open in the middle of the floor. Intestines and various organs were all exposed by the sliced and ripped flesh, though the heart, GoldenDeath noticed, was not where it should be, was missing.

The steady dripping of the red-orange Kitavran blood drew his attention to the chandelier, and he found the missing muscle, though he honestly wished he hadn't.

EtherealRain's heart was pinned through a now-broken lightbulb by a shattered shin-bone in a gruesome centerpiece to the macabre display.

Unable to look any longer, GoldenDeath ran back into the hall and, collapsing to his knees, he emptied the contents of his stomach upon the floor. His shoulders shook slightly when ArcaneThorn's hand gently touched him, and he shrugged the man off as he got to his feet.

As cleaning drones began sanitizing both the hall and bedroom, the prince wiped his mouth and turned to a young servant in as superior of a manner as he could. "Is she all accounted for?"

The servant seemed hesitant, but nevertheless answered, "Yes, Prince GoldenDeath, we have made sure every, ah...individual body part was recovered, all except for one..."

"What is missing, then?"

"The Queen's ring-finger, along with her wedding ring, was not found."

GoldenDeath took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "Very well. Carry on, then."

As the boy scuttled off, a certain cobalt-haired psycho made himself known about three feet ahead of GoldenDeath in the hall. "Oh, such a pity about her highness...I only _pray_ her killer is brought to a swift justice!"

He took several lazy strides towards the prince, 'inspecting' the gory scene. "Such a brute to do something like _this_ , what a tragedy! Oh, and GoldenDeath, by the by..."

LeatherKnife was now right at the dark-haired prince's side, looking straight ahead as he slipped a cold, wet object into the young man's right hand.

"Happy birthday."

With the almost inaudible, mocking whisper, LeatherKnife was gone down the hall, and with a sinking feeling, GoldenDeath moved his hand to examine the object.

Just about every neuron in his brain felt as if it were fried as he looked at the blood-coated finger in his hand. Choking back bile once again, he felt for a metal band for confirmation of the finger, though he already had an idea who it belonged to. Finding it, he wiped off a bit of blood, now sure that the finger belonged to his late mother when his yellow eyes met the pink gems scattered over the ring. Numb all over, he released the light grip he had on the digit, not even noticing as a single mourning tear slid over his cheek.

Needless to say that he was a bit speechless when he was abruptly turned and pulled to a certain cold-blooded warlord's chest. Giving the man a blankly confused look, he was even more surprised when Chase wiped away the tear on his cheek and held him tighter.

Was he...being _hugged_ by Chase Young?

Giving a half-hysterical laugh, he pushed away from Chase and quickly resumed his 'holier than thou' persona. Besides the fact that it kept everyone but those closest to him from overly worrying, at times like these it kept him from losing whatever sanity he still clung to. After all, being raised by someone who apparently kills your mother for your birthday present, you lose a _least_ a bit of your sanity.

"My father requested to see me, I must go to him."

Without another word, he walked off to the throne room in the most dignified manner he was able, Chase silently trailing him.

In a short amount of time, the pair arrived in the throne room, alone, seeing as the engaged couple had stayed behind to give the young man some space, and they were met with an odd sight.

Next to the smirking King CrimsonClaw stood a middle-aged man, approximately forty-or-so years, in rose and indigo colored robes. His plum-purple hair was cut short, though some of it still managed to hang in his dusky pink eyes, one of which was surrounded by a black star. To Chase's utmost annoyance, the rose-tinted eyes were firmly fixed on the young prince's figure.

Clearing his throat, GoldenDeath stepped forward. "You called for me, father?"

"Yes, my son," the man smiled, mockingly sweet. "I'm glad you could join us. I have _wonderful_ news for you."

"Does your news concern mother at all?" he prompted.

"She's dead, boy, forget her! Why think of your worthless, dead mother when you yourself could soon become a mother?"

Yellow eyes went wide. "W-what?"

A smug smile stretched the king's face. "Yes, son. You see, I've decided that it was high time you were married and produced heirs to the throne. When LavenderEntropy," he gestured to the man at his side, " so politely requested your hand, I immediately agreed."

The man finally spoke up in a smooth voice and lecherous tone. "Yes, GoldenDeath, I'm quite looking forward to _having_ you as my wife."

"Wife?! But—but...don't I get a say in this?"

"No, no, you don't, and one more protest from you, and I'll have your voice box cut out!"

Quickly, GoldenDeath assumed a submissive posture and bowed his head low. "Yes, father."

As he turned and walked from the room, his perverted new fiancé following closely, Chase stood in the shadows of the throne room, boiling with possessive rage. This..this fool would wed his son to an obvious scoundrel like LavenderEntropy?! GoldenDeath was rightful property of Chase Young! If there was anyone the boy should be marrying, it was hi—

Wait. Maybe that was it...

Wearing a frigid smirk, Chase leisurely stepped from the blackness.

"King CrimsonClaw," he began, "I have a proposition for you..."

Trudging somberly to his room, GoldenDeath wanted nothing more at the moment than to curl up and die. He was quite sure now, karma _was_ out to get him. Had he really been so horrible to _accidentally_ kill _one_ doctor to earn the undeserved hatred of both LeatherKnife _and_ CrimsonClaw? Had he been wayward and disobedient to his parents long enough to deserve a freshly dead mother and a fiancé over twice his age, and _clearly_ showing it? Ah, but then, life wasn't fair, was it?

He decided that it could be worse, really. He missed his mother, yes, but he had never really been close to her. It seemed heartless, to say he wasn't grieving over her loss, but the single, heartfelt tear was all he felt he owed her. She had given birth to him, played with him once or twice as a child, yes, but she, like his father, hadn't raised him either. Certainly she was _sweeter_ than his father, though, but simply put, they were hardly family. After all, he thought, he'd _really_ be grieving had it been his faux-mother, ArcaneThorn, or even his faux-father, MauveBane, mainly because _they_ were like his real family anyway. But then, even if he ignored whatever sadness he felt for the blond woman, there was still the pertinent issue of that disgusting man he was supposed to be wed t—

Any thought he may have had at the moment were pushed out of his head when he was quite abruptly shoved against a wall by said disgusting man. LavenderEntropy leered suggestively at the prince, one hand on his shoulder, the other on his chest.

"Hello there, little queen," he fairly purred at him, "what do you say to a little...pre-wedding _fun_ , eh?"

Yellow eyes widened as he began to struggle frantically against the man who had him pinned. "Ugh, I'd never, you sick—"

Suddenly, he couldn't speak at all. There was no transition, GoldenDeath's voice was simply _gone_. He attempted to force LavenderEntropy away when, to his utter horror, he found that he was also unable to move, even a muscle!

Not wasting _any_ time, the older man took his lips in a bruising kiss, nearly choking the prince with his tongue. At the taste of the appendage, not to mention the feel of hands worming their way under his shirt, for the second time that day, GoldenDeath felt like puking, crying, or both.

Now that the young prince's shirt was totally undone and barely hanging off of his shoulders, LavenderEntropy saw fit to pull away and fix the prone boy with an avaricious stare.

"You don't have a choice, little queen. As you may have noticed, you can't move, much less lift a finger against me. But," he sighed in an almost lamenting tone, "it's no fun with a lifeless dummy, so that's why I've figured out a _fun_ little trick with my power. See, if I wanted you to, oh, say, put your hand in my hair..."

Insides like an icy mush, GoldenDeath watched in dread as, against his will, his own fingers tangled in the violet strands.

"You would do it."

The man chuckled, trailing a hand down the boy's exposed and lightly muscled form. "You're mine forever, puppet."

Just as the offending fingers reached GoldenDeath's waistband, someone cleared their throat from somewhere off to the side.

Still unable to move, GoldenDeath tried his best to see who it was out of the corner of his eye, though to no avail. Apparently, however, LavenderEntropy had seen the intruder and, in his shock, released whatever hold he was using to restrain the prince. Instantly after he was freed, he snapped his head to the side. His eyes lit up and it was quite hard not to use the man's real name. "BlackDragon!"

Gold met yellow for a brief moment before locking onto the forty-something-year-old in a stare cold enough to induce frostbite. "Ahem, LavenderEntropy, was it?"

The man nodded dumbly, and Chase took it as a sign to continue. "Yes, well, Prince GoldenDeath and I have something to discuss, so we would _truly_ appreciate you making yourself as scarce as possible. _**Understand**_?"

At this LavenderEntropy became both flustered and angry. "Hey, now, wait a minute! He's my fiancé, and I have every right to—"

"Leave. _**Now**._ " The icy look abruptly flipped, and the golden irises appeared hot enough to scorch.

Sufficiently cowed, the purple-haired man back away and, with a weak glare at the warlord, swiftly marched down the corridor.

Slumping to the ground, GoldenDeath stared blindly at the tiled floor, internally shuddering at what had nearly happened to him.

"Get up."

The harsh request was enough to get him to do just that, and he fixed Chase with a bewildered look.

Effectively ignoring him, Chase focused his attention on redoing the clasps of GoldenDeath's shirt and spoke in a low growl. "I restrained myself _just this once_ for your sake. Though I doubt you personally would've minded, I don't think your psyche can handle any more gore today. Regardless, if I see him touch you again," he paused to nip sharply on the prince's marked ear, as in reminder, "I'll kill him on the spot."

Abruptly, the man straightened and gave off a no-nonsense aura. "Now, your father informed me that your coming of age celebration will be in four hours, and I expect you to compose yourself before then. For now, go to your room and get ready."

"Ah, Chase, wha—what about you?" GoldenDeath was still a bit shaken up, though rightfully so.

"I'll be...around, making sure you won't have any more visits from that fool your father calls an 'acceptable husband'."

GoldenDeath gave the man a weak smile. "Thank you."

"If at all possible, try to avoid LeatherKnife on your way, I'd prefer not to deal with him for a while yet."

"Right, right, I'm going. I'll see you later, Chase."

Golden eyes were glued to the movements of the retreating figure. "Yes," he murmured, "you certainly will..."


	11. Chapter 11

In his room sat GoldenDeath, silently thinking on the many things he had to think about.

First and foremost on his mind, however, was how to escape the fate of this horrid marriage he would soon be forced into! This man, this LavenderEntropy had made it _quite_ clear that he had no care for him in anything but body, and that he would disregard GoldenDeath's own wishes to obtain what he wanted.

Not to mention how conveniently this fit into his father's scheme! Despite his powerful abilities, it was obvious that LavenderEntropy was loyal to King CrimsonClaw, and as he would soon be freely able to manipulate GoldenDeath after the marriage, his father actually _could_ force him into being a weapon through LavenderEntropy, perhaps between molesting sessions. All in all, once he was married, like many other people believed to a slightly different extent, his freedom would be gone.

Unless he missed his guess, LeatherKnife would only make the situation worse. Instead of killing his father and him _before_ the wedding, a mercy as far as GoldenDeath was concerned, he would wait until the last possible second to kill him, to ensure the most misery possible.

So how was he going to get himself out of this one?

It was looking pretty bleak when it hit him: of course, his power! He could use his 'Midas gaze' to rid himself of these thorns in his side! Yes, that would be perfect! LavenderEntropy would _never_ see it coming, though LeatherKnife and CrimsonClaw could prove troublesome in that respect. As they both knew very well what his eyes could do, they would be far more cautious around him, especially after LavenderEntropy was found a dead golden statue. That was the only problem with his method— it was a bit of a calling card with his name all over it, but circumstance could be an aid to GoldenDeath in tricking his father and nurse. Then, with all of that settled, he could go home and be done with it.

 _"Wait...home?"_ he thought to himself, bewildered. _"I am home, aren't I?"_

A voice in the back of his head answered him. _"No, you are on Kitavra, your birthplace, but no, not your home."_

_"If...if Kitavra isn't my home, then what is? And what are you?"_

_"Earth is your home, of course. Besides that, I am you. The inner you, the deepest, innermost part of you."_

_"Well, that's...that's really weird..."_

_"As if you've ever been normal?"_

_"Point taken. But why, of all places, would _Earth_ be my home?"_

_"Well, why wouldn't it be?"_

_"For one, the primitive technology—"_

_"You can easily create your own mechanics."_

_"The lacking intelligence of the populous—"_

_"Who ever said you would have to associate with them?"_

_"Well, fine then, how about the fact that everyone I know there hates me?"_

_"They don't hate _you_ , they hate who you were pretending to be. Besides, does it really matter what the _monks_ think of you?"_

_"No, but...but..."_

_"Chase's opinion does?"_

_"Yea—wait, what?"_

_"Of course. Surely you've noticed how much you strive for his approval by _now_?"_

_"But, I never—"_

_"Of course you did. Even when you were pretending to be Jack Spicer, you drove your character to try to impress him, whether you yourself realized you were doing it or not. Although, you persona wasn't really the 'impressing type' and the conflict of interests weakened your focus and resolve, causing your character to act as even more of a bumbling fool than he was intended to be."_

_"Jack Spicer idolized Chase Young, how does that say that _I_ was trying to—"_

_"How much of the fanboy act was _just_ an act?"_

_"What?"_

_"It may have started out as staying in character, but you became attached to Chase, started liking him on your own. That's why you don't want to stay here after everything is all over. Chase's home is on Earth, so you want to be there, too. Just admit it: you have a crush on Chase Young."_

_"I—I—no, I don't! That's—it's—"_

_"Completely true, isn't it? There's no need to deny it now that you finally have his attention."_

_"I'm not denying anyth—he what?"_

_"Well, obviously, he's taken a liking to you. If not attracted to you already, he's at least interested. If you were to make a move, he would surely—"_

_"No, I'm done listening to you!"_

And then, just like that, the voice was gone.

Looking around the empty room, GoldenDeath sighed and slumped into a black velvet chair. "Now, I _know_ I'm losing it," he chuckled. "I've been talking to myself this whole time!"

A knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts, and he stood up to answer it, despite the oddness he felt at the foreign feel of the loose fabric on his body.

Honestly, he didn't mind _wearing_ the robes, he just didn't think he'd be used to them for a while yet.

Opening the door, he was a bit apprehensive. The hour of the celebration was at hand, and as the guest of honor, GoldenDeath, in Kitavran custom, required an escort there. Since LavenderEntropy was to be his, he couldn't help but internally shudder, _husband_ , it was only natural for him to be the escort. Obviously, GoldenDeath wasn't looking forward to this because, despite the fact that someone would notice if he didn't arrive on time, he still didn't believe LavenderEntropy able to be trusted alone with him.

When the door was opened, as expected, he saw his 'fiancé'. What he hadn't expected, however, was for Chase to be standing almost watchfully next to the other man.

GoldenDeath looked back and forth between the two, confused. "Ahem, LavenderEntropy, wh—"

"Sorry, queen, I had wanted to escort you myself, but this _fool,_ " Chase scoffed at the feeble insult, "insisted on following along."

 _"Ha,"_ thought the prince, mentally smiling, _"I'm sure 'insisted' means 'threatened with bodily harm.'"_

"It's a shame, too, we really could have had so much _fun_ on the way."

 _"Ugh,"_ he internally grimaced, _"why am I not surprised the dirty old bastard was hoping for **that**_ _?"_

"You look nice, Prince GoldenDeath."

"Oh, thank you, BlackDragon!" The way the small compliment from Chase had so completely captured his attention made GoldenDeath wonder if his inner-self might have had a point...

LavenderEntropy was furious at the admiration he saw in the young prince's eyes and, in a rage, he snarled and roughly snatched GoldenDeath's arm, practically dragging him down the corridor. Chase followed swiftly, growling low in his throat.

"I _**suggest**_ you treat him with a bit of respect."

Not letting up in the least, actually _tightening_ his grip on GoldenDeath's arm, he sneered. "I don't think so, he's _**mine**_!"

Chase's eyes widened a fraction before his countenance became furious, and GoldenDeath was knocked aside as he forced the puppet-master against the wall by his throat. Against his own will, he almost transformed, but he controlled his enraged dragon enough so that only his arm became scaled and clawed.

Teeth bared, Chase pressed his sharp talons into the flesh of LavenderEntropy's neck. "You should not make claims that you are unable to support, you ignorant fool," he hissed.

LavenderEntropy was struggling frantically, attempting to get free, despite the small rivulets of red dripping down his collarbone.

"Wait, BlackDragon! Don't!"

Chase tensed, fixing the youth with an almost incredulous stare. "Surely you can't mean for me to spare him...?"

GoldenDeath sighed. "I hate him, too," he began, to which LavenderEntropy had the decency to look offended, "but I _think_ his absence at the celebration would be noticed by _someone_ , seeing as he's my..." he struggled to say the word aloud, but instead decided to just trail it off.

"Fiancé?" suggested LavenderEntropy slyly, to which a set of claws dug just a bit deeper into his skin.

"Yeah, that. So just let the idiot go, okay? I don't think we can afford to draw attention to ourselves right now." The prince gave Chase a slightly pleading look.

Chase turned back to the man in his clutches, giving a vicious growl to intimidate him. Pleased with the pathetic whimpers he received, he unceremoniously dropped him to the floor, sneering in disdain at the pitiful scene the man had made for himself, then shifting his hand back to human-like flesh and bone.

Scrambling up from the ground, LavenderEntropy moved to stand behind GoldenDeath, placing both hands on the smaller one's hips. "I knew you were getting sweet on me, queen."

Stepping out of his grip, the prince stalked off down the hall once more, coldly suggesting to Chase, "Kill him after."

Giving the purple-haired man, who suddenly appeared quite frightened, an almost disgusted look, Chase moved to GoldenDeath's right side, agreeing, "It would be my pleasure."

LavenderEntropy quickly caught up, and soon, the three were back off on their way to the party, GoldenDeath's eyes straight ahead, LavenderEntropy's on him, and Chase's glaring watchfully at LavenderEntropy.

Glancing to his companions, GoldenDeath mentally sighed, thinking, _"This is proving to be quite the **long** __day..."_


	12. Chapter 12

The noise of the many richly-dressed guests in the richly-decorated ballroom as they conversed and gossiped of this and that seemed to GoldenDeath as the buzz of killing wasps from behind the entrance doors, even as he, regardless, prepared himself for an _entire_ evening of 'pleasant conversation'.

Chase, as well, was not overly fond of celebrations such as these, filled to the brim with mindless debutantes who cared for nothing unless it was worth a mint or encrusted with diamonds first, though there was the rare exception where they wanted something _else_. Simply put, these people were generally disgusting wastes of flesh who thought of nothing but personal gain, monetary or otherwise, but if there was one thing Chase knew how to do, it was put on a show, and for now, he would do just that.

The chatter of the guests abated as the doors atop a regal-looking staircase were flung open and three new guests were announced.

"Presenting Prince BlackDragon, Prince GoldenDeath, and Senator LavenderEntropy."

The scrutinizing eyes first locked onto the one they now knew as BlackDragon, observing him without mercy. Elegant features, a strong build, and an intelligence that seemed to gleam in his golden eyes were all well-complimented by the dark fabric draped over his form, the colors of the material blending in between black, white, and several shades of grey, in the manner of freshly-burnt ashes. An elaborate necklace of jade hung from his neck, ending at his chest with a dragon pendant that was an exact match to the shape of the clip that held his braid of dark hair in place, even as it was draped gently over his shoulder. This man, despite his beauty, cut a dangerous and powerful figure, and the entire room knew it.

Appeased with their examination of this prince, they turned their attention to the man they heard referred to as LavenderEntropy. This one appeared to be the eldest of the three, though dwarfed in size by BlackDragon, due to the beginning signs of wrinkles at his eyes and mouth and because of the slight aged wisdom in his rosy eyes. But then, as much as it puzzled the guests, this man's eyes spoke of less experience than they had seen in the obviously younger BlackDragon's. Despite this, they continued their examination, noting the violet hair too short to style as it oddly matched with the bright blue and sea-green robes the man wore. He wore golden earrings and a single chain of the same color, both of which went well with his outfit of choice. This man was also attractive, it was deemed, and he must only still be single at his age because of his own decision not to marry. After all, who wouldn't snatch up such an attractive bachelor?

Finally done with this one, the eyes then moved to the youngest of the three, the one for which the celebration was obviously for. After all, this was a coming-of-age party, and this young man looked about right for having just come of age. Two glittering golden streaks of hair hung to his chest on either side of his face while the rest of his hair, black in color, had half of it pinned back by an intricate silver clip, keeping it with the other half which was simply spilled freely over his back and shoulders. About his neck was a shining silver collar, matched by two similar bands on his pale wrists. Though he wore flowing robes, black as pitch in shade and delicately embroidered with silver thread, the eyes still noticed his thin, wiry frame, smaller than BlackDragon's, who was an obviously seasoned fighter, though the young man didn't appear weak. No, he looked as if he _could_ fight, but didn't often do so.

All in all, the yellow-eyed prince was a nearly-feminine beauty, and if the women had swooned for BlackDragon, which they had, then by now both women and men were eyeing the young prince with a controlling lust. They were quite sure that because GoldenDeath was young, he was naive, and that he could for sure be easily used and manipulated for power and...other things. They failed to see the intelligence in his brightly pigmented eyes that rivaled even BlackDragon's, and his firm expression that clearly stated that he was not new to life's hardships.

The hum of conversation resumed as the three newcomers joined the medley of guests in their mingling.

GoldenDeath found that neither Chase nor LavenderEntropy would leave his side, no matter how hard he tried to blend into the crowd. LavenderEntropy had a firm grip on his hand, which alone sent his mind into disgust. Soon enough, however, an ash-colored arm hooked into his and dragged him off through several droves of people, eventually leaving the purple-haired man behind.

"Oh, thank you, Chase," GoldenDeath smiled. "I was getting sick of having to deal with him."

A cool smirk. "I don't mind doing things for you when you need it. Besides," he sneered, "he's an awful suitor."

GoldenDeath laughed, holding Chase's arm a bit tighter, even as the two were approached by a guest.

"Ah, Prince GoldenDeath, I've been looking for you!" At Chase's expectant stare, the man added, "Oh, yes, hello, Prince BlackDragon, I didn't see you there."

Chase scowled lightly as the man, who looked generally nondescript for someone of high standing, continued to speak. "I couldn't help but notice, GoldenDeath, that you are young yet _and_ quite attractive. I couldn't help but wonder, you wouldn't happen to be looking for a husband, would you?"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, sir, but I'm already engaged." A shamed blush spread across the young prince's cheeks as he thought of just _who_ it was he was engaged to, though the other man, who hadn't even bothered to give his name, took it as a 'blushing bride' sort of thing.

"Ah, I see. Who's the lucky Kitavran?"

"Um, I—I'm being wed to—"

"Me." Chase's arm curled about GoldenDeath's waist, pulling him possessively closer. "I expect he will make a wonderful wife."

"I imagine he will, BlackDragon. What about you then, GoldenDeath? How do you feel about the wedding?"

Internally shocked that Chase would make such a lie on his account, though playing along, he answered, "Well, my father did arrange the marriage, but I'm happy about it. I like BlackDragon already, and I think we'll make a good match." He smiled up at Chase for emphasis.

"Yes, you two seem good togeth—oh, my, what _is_ that scar on your ear?"

GoldenDeath flushed deeply, stuttering as he attempted to explain the mark he had nearly forgotten was exposed when he felt aristocratic fingers come up to deftly stroke his ear. As he lightly dragged a digit over the bite, Chase answered, "I _can_ be a bit rough with him, I admit."

"Ah, I _see_ ," the emphasis he used on the word caused GoldenDeath's cheeks to get redder at the implication, to which Chase only held him tighter to his chest. "You know, you're lucky to have a partner who doesn't mind the rough stuff. I have yet to come across an attractive Kitavran who even _tolerates_ biting, much less anything else!"

Chase leisurely twirled a golden strand of hair around his finger. "Yes, I am lucky, aren't I?"

Seemingly out of the blue, music began playing from somewhere off to the side, where a band must, in theory, be, and several couples took the floor in a dance. Perfectly gentlemanly, Chase held GoldenDeath's hand in front of him, asking, "May I have this dance?"

The young prince smiled. "Anytime."

The man watched the two as they walked away to the dance floor. "What a sweet couple..."

Having reached their destination, GoldenDeath and Chase began their dance amongst the other guests.

"Hey, Chase, thanks for covering for me. I'd rather it not be known that I'm engaged to _LavenderEntropy_." GoldenDeath spat the name like it was dirt.

Without missing a step, Chase smoothly replied, "Who said I was covering?"

"What?" Yellow eyes were wide in shocked confusion.

"I wasn't lying when I said you were engaged to me. That's the truth. LavenderEntropy is only still here as your father's guest at this point, not your future husband, though the fool doesn't yet know it."

"Wh—but—I—since when?!"

Chase smirked in his usual way. "Shortly after I heard about the engagement. I managed to convince your idiot of a father that I could control you in a way that LavenderEntropy _never_ could."

"Oh? And how do you intend to do that?!" The young prince was understandably upset and confused at this new development, and his mind was currently stuck somewhere between shock, disbelief, and outrage at not being told sooner.

Chase's hand moved just a _bit_ lower on his back and he leaned towards GoldenDeath's ear to whisper huskily, "How do _you_ think?"

A bit breathless as he felt a hot tongue sweep over the side of his neck all the way up to his earlobe, GoldenDeath practically squeaked, "You're going to seduce me, then?"

Chase pulled away, the both of them still dancing so as not to call attention to themselves, and drawled, "Hmm, something like that. Relax, it's not as if I'd be raping you."

GoldenDeath scowled, "And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Chase laughed, "It's not rape if you want it, obviously."

"And who says I'd want it?" the prince challenged.

The overlord chuckled. "I _know_ you'd want it, Death. I think you've forgotten that my sense of smell far exceeds that of any human, and if you're even _half_ as smart as I think you are, you know what pheromones are. You should also know what it means that I smell them _all_ over you whenever I'm around. My very presence excites you, GoldenDeath, I know you like me, and I am attracted to you as well, so why not give this a chance?"

The young prince frowned in contemplation. "I...I won't marry you!" He knew he sounded like a pouting child, but he couldn't do _this_! He wasn't ready!

"Oh?" Chase raised an eyebrow. "So you don't feel any attraction to me?"

"W—w—well, I—I wouldn't go _th_ — _that_ far..." GoldenDeath stuttered meekly.

"Then what is so hard about this? Is it really so difficult to fathom that this isn't some scheme, and that I might have a genuine attraction to you?"

"Yes! I've done my homework, Chase. I know you've had lovers before, all of whom were discarded like so much garbage. I don't want that for myself!"

Chase aggressively pulled him closer and hissed, "If you've done your research, like you say, then you _must_ know that I've never married either. Truth be told, out of all the lovers I've had, not _one_ of them captured my interest enough for me to even _consider_ marriage! You should be honored I'm taking you for my wife after over a century as a bachelor."

"Well, I...you...ugh, fine! Better you than LavenderEntropy, I guess. Well, if worst comes to worst, I can just wait until I die to get out of it."

"Ah ah ah, you don't seem to understand, GoldenDeath. When I really want something, I go through a bit of a process. First, I mark it as _mine_." Chase paused to stroke the bite mark on the prince's ear. "And then, I _make_ it mine, and once it's mine, it's mine _forever_ , understand?"

"B—but w—wh..." Apparently, GoldenDeath had a habit of stuttering when nervous or confused. Finally getting his bearings, he firmly questioned, "What if it doesn't work out?"

Chase scoffed, "I wouldn't be doing this if I believed that we didn't have enough in common and in contrast to 'work out' as you say. Besides, you said it in your own words, 'we'll make a good match'."

GoldenDeath saw the logic in Chase's words, but was still unsure, and desperately tried to come up with a reason that the marriage couldn't happen. "But we...I...what I mean is..." He couldn't find one.

The music, at some point in their conversation, had become more up-tempo, a bit of a tango or salsa rhythm, and at a slight pause in the music, Chase saw fit to dip his dance partner. Noses touching, the dragon warlord altered his tone to a low and seductive one. "Give it a chance, love, hm?"

GoldenDeath immediately lost himself in the intense gold gaze, numbly muttering, "Okay..."

Obviously pleased, his face taking on a bit of a smug quality, Chase ended their dance and once again took hold of the young prince's arm as they walked from the dance floor.

Apparently, this was at just the right time, because whomever it was that was conducting the activities of the party had decided that the time had come for the dancing to end and the dining to begin. This was signified when a loud, deep bell, not unlike in tone to a gong, sounded, leaving the guests to meander to the large expanse of table set up specifically for the droves of guests and the lavish dinner that would soon be coming.

Chase found his seat next to his soon-to-be wife, his right side if one wanted to be specific, and GoldenDeath took a small measure of comfort in his presence. This comfort was almost instantly shattered with the words, "Ah, there you are, little queen!"

Posture tense, GoldenDeath looked to his left, wincing at the sight of the purple-haired man in the seat next to him. "Oh, LavenderEntropy...um, I was wondering wher—"

"Thought you could get rid of me, eh? Oh, so naive you are, Death!" he laughed scornfully. "I wouldn't let my future bride escape me so soon. Not while I have _so_ much planned for you, yet..."

GoldenDeath grimaced slightly before giving a pleading, almost 'help me' look to Chase. The older man's face was drawn in a stern expression, eyes locked on LavenderEntropy as he watched the scoundrel for any sign of an immediate threat to the one he had chosen as his spouse. In fact, the dragon's entire being seemed to say that he would not allow LavenderEntropy very much of anything of _his_ GoldenDeath from now on, though he dared him to try what he may.

LavenderEntropy ignored the man easily and moved his chair just a bit closer to the yellow-eyed prince, much to the dismay of GoldenDeath and disgruntlement of Chase when he did so.

Fortunately for the two dark-haired and displeased males, however, any more actions pf the star-marked puppet-master were paused at the least when about a hundred servants poured into the room carting just as many trays along with them. Each tray held a different dish, some with fruits and vegetables intricately arranged and sliced, others with varieties of meats and soups all ornately decorated and presented in an artistic manner, of which Chase found himself unable to place any. It made sense, though, that he couldn't. After all, this _was_ a different planet, and despite the fact that it could support human life, it had a totally different ecosystem, one that produced very different flora and life forms than what the man was used to seeing. In any case, though, the servants laid the foods upon the table, before then filing neatly out of the room once more.

Now that the table was set, GoldenDeath noticed his father stand from his seat at the head of the table, no more than a seat or two ahead of his own, in order to address the crowd. "May I have your attention, please!" His gruff voice sliced through the residual noise of the guests' conversation, silencing them almost immediately. Appeased with the reaction, he continued, "As many of you know, my _beloved son,_ " a lie to anyone who _really_ knew him, though the guests could only take it as a truth, "has just come of nineteen years of age, which is, of course, the reason you are all here. That said, I should ask him now to stand."

Wishing he hadn't been put on the spot so suddenly, GoldenDeath stood regardless as polite and congratulatory applause took the table, to which the dark-haired prince smiled politely back. Once the clapping died down, CrimsonClaw again called the attention of the room. "Now, as many of you may _not_ know, my son is also in the possession of quite a measure of power, which now leads me to my next point."

"Kitavra, our home planet, is essentially a utopian stronghold of the universe. We are the cream of the crop, and quite frankly, the best of the best. But despite this, other planets, aliens, have become jealous of our power, our perfect society!" Grumbles of discontent and noises of shock began to pour from the group, and both GoldenDeath and Chase had a bad feeling about where this was going. "They have already sent several threats to us, preaching our downfall and our inferiority, and in order to defend our honor as a race, I have taken the only course of action possible."

Sure of the next words to come out of his father's mouth, GoldenDeath winced internally as they spilled forth. "I have declared war upon our enemies, Belluxiva, Xyenon, and Selvitar."

The stunned silence of the room at that moment could have only been punctuated by the chirping of a cricket. The three planets King CrimsonClaw had declared as their enemies were three of the most powerful in their entire solar system!

Belluxiva was a large and wealthy planet that was incredibly focused on their commercial industry, mainly known for the manufacturing and selling of all things A to Z. It was understandable to covet control of it for monetary gain, but it was foolish to actually _try_ for it! With all the resources at the Belluxivans' disposal, they could easily obtain the most advanced and dangerous weapons off of the black market, making them more-than-formidable foes.

And if they wouldn't be hard enough to deal with alone, then the Selvitarians certainly knocked the threat-level up a notch. The entire planet was filled to the brim with violent brutes whose only interests were bloodshed and battle. The populous of Selvitar was trained in the arts of warfare and combat after only two Kitavran, and by transition, Earth years after birth, giving them the definite physical-intimidation factor over Belluxiva.

But then, it was impossible to forget the Xyenites, for they were the proverbial icing on the cake. This race prided themselves on their incredible intellects, so highly advanced that they had mastered the arts of magic. Though Xyenon was a normally neutral planet, supposedly evolved beyond warfare and violence, it was obvious that these beings were not to be challenged, the few planets who had previously challenged them standing as barely-intact and smouldering testaments to that.

And thus, the question on nearly every Kitavran's mind: had their King lost his mind?!

Ignorant of the dubious listeners, CrimsonClaw went on. "And, fair and just Kitavrans, with the aid my son has so graciously provided in the effort, the ability to decimate an entire army in a single glance now at our advantage, we shall emerge victorious!"

Decimate an army? Well, then, decided the audience, this could actually _work_. And then, when Kitavra became the victor of the war, they would hold control of the three most influential planets in the _whole star-system_! They would rule!

Bit by bit, one by one, the guests began clapping, first with the man who had tried for GoldenDeath's hand earlier, then moving to a well-dressed young lady with pale hair before the contagious applause was adopted by the entire table.

"Thank you all for your gracious support, it is simply wonderful to know that so many of you share my principles and ideals, though there is one more thing I should like to call to your attention."

GoldenDeath, having resumed his seat during the applause, frowned minutely, knowing the next topic and being more than a bit offended that it was only after his father's war-speech that it was being brought up.

"Some of you may have heard a rumor that my lovely wife, EtherealRain, has recently passed on. I regret to inform all of you that this rumor is completely true." Gasps and murmurs of sympathy rippled across the table. "Fortunately, however, she met her end peacefully and without pain," both Chase and GoldenDeath mentally scoffed at the lie, "and in any case, I would ask a moment of silence in her memory."

The room immediately silenced in respect for the deceased woman, and GoldenDeath bowed his head, having a feeling this would be the last time he would mourn his biological mother. Although, it wasn't long before the young prince's solemn mind-set was snapped into outrage and mild disgust at the hand that was now attempting to stroke his thigh seductively. With little surprise, GoldenDeath realized it was his left thigh receiving the unwanted attention, which only served to further confirm his, "LavenderEntropy's a sick bastard" theory.

This was his mother! Granted, he wasn't as broken up about it as anyone else might be, but LavenderEntropy _couldn't_ know that! _No one_ knew that, barring, of course, Chase, who had probably already picked up on it— the man could read people exceptionally well, and almost undoubtedly knew by now what GoldenDeath felt about the whole issue. Regardless, though, the prince's desire to see the pink-eyed lech in pain was rising at an alarming rate.

This desire was quite abruptly fulfilled when a fork was effectively driven into the offending hand. The utensil had been used with perfect moderation, the resulting wound not being deep enough to cause conspicuous bleeding, something to be avoided at the present location, but certainly not shallow enough to spare any pain.

As LavenderEntropy's hand shot back, accompanied by a quiet, pained grunt and the unspoken gladness of being left-handed, GoldenDeath belatedly realized that since _he_ hadn't been the one to stab the man, there was only one other person who _would_ do it and was in proper proximity to do so, the person now regarding him with a cool and aloof gaze from the seat on his right. Appreciative of the bit of help, he gave Chase a grateful smile, to which the older man nodded and laid a hand on GoldenDeath's lap. Quite frankly, he was far more pleased with this one as opposed to the previous hand, mainly because _this_ hand was dormant.

All too soon, it seemed, the moment of silence was ended and the dinner then begun. The rest of the evening went off without a hitch: the dinner was delicious, dinner conversation was, in a euphemism, domestically mild, and after a little more general mingling, the guests were kindly seen off. The king had, on a whim, chosen to take LavenderEntropy back to his quarters, and MauveBane and ArcaneThorn, who had planned to meet up with Chase and Death, had somehow gotten roped into dish-duty, leaving the two alone in the hallway outside the ballroom.

"Well," the prince began, sarcasm clearly etched in his voice, "that was _fun_."

"The most fun I think I've _ever_ had," Chase shot right back, going on to say. "Really, though, Death, why don't you go on ahead to your room and I'll join you shortly? I only have a quick thing to take care of first."

Looking a bit distracted, GoldenDeath nodded, muttering an affirmation before wandering back to his room. Truth be told, his mind had already begun searching for a solution to the whole new dilemma brought on by the war declaration, thus only about a fourth of his focus was available to anyone who tried for his attention while he did so.

Now that GoldenDeath was gone, Chase was free to handle his 'errand' in the manner he saw fit, so with a cruel, fanged smirk, he set off through the corridors to his destination.

He didn't have to look long before he spotted his target, already trying to slink back towards GoldenDeath's room.

"And where are you going, Senator?"

LavenderEntropy froze in his tracks, slowly turning to face the other man. "Oh, BlackDragon, funny running into you right now."

Chase frowned, pointing out, "You've neglected to answer my question."

LavenderEntropy's demeanor suddenly flipped, going from grudgingly friendly to openly vicious. "You, _you_ took him away from me! The King told me that _you'll_ be marrying him now, you stole him right out from under my nose, you thief!"

Chase scoffed, "He was _never_ yours to begin with, LavenderEntropy. The minute he showed up on Earth, he was _mine_."

"Earth?!" he gasped. "You...you're a human?!" At the very least the other man wasn't stupid.

"That's right, I'm human, and yet GoldenDeath's _already_ chosen me over you."

"Well," the Kitavran huffed, "you may the one to marry him, but _I'll_ have him first!"

Chase then felt a slight grip on his mind, clearly LavenderEntropy's. Was he _really_ trying to control him with such minimal force? The largest effect of it was the tiniest inkling in the back of Chase's mind to return to his quarters! It was obvious enough that, having personally experienced some of 'BlackDragon's' power, LavenderEntropy had made a dangerous assumption: that Chase Young was a one-trick pony...or, dragon.

Easily forcing off the minor influence, he moved forward, pressing LavenderEntropy face-first into the wall. One hand on his back, the other holding his head to the solid stone, Chase hissed in his captive's ear, "And that, Senator, was your _last_ mistake. Did you honestly think you could get past me?"

Scared out of his wits now, LavenderEntropy upped his effort of puppeteering over Chase, simultaneously pleading, "W—wait! You just want GoldenDeath safe, r—right? If you let me go, I won't touch him, I promise!"

Feeling the force on his will return stronger, causing his hand to twitch almost violently, Chase once again banished the pressure by doubly enforcing his mental barriers against the hold, increasing his own pressure _physically_ on LavenderEntropy. "Nice try, but you see, you now know something you shouldn't, and in _good conscience_ , I'm afraid I just _can't_ let you live."

"What, about you being human? I—I swear I won't tell anyone, just let me go!"

"Idealistic thinking, Senator. I would _love_ to believe you but somehow," he violently forced his hand through LavenderEntropy's back and, to the other man's pained horror, out the other side, "I don't think you can be trusted."

Blood already clotting in his lungs and pain clouding his mind, LavenderEntropy could only force out a gurgling whimper before his mind was engulfed in darkness.

Pulling his now gore-covered arm out of the dead man's abdomen, Chase watched in detachment as the body hit the floor with a dull thud.

This done, he no longer had any obligations here, and so left the hallway, not once looking back at LavenderEntropy, who now lie completely still in a growing pool of his own blood.

In a matter of minutes, Chase was at GoldenDeath's door, wearing clothes with _far_ less blood on them, and knocked twice. When the door wasn't answered, Chase opened it anyways, expecting to see the prince asleep, and was puzzled to, instead, see GoldenDeath fervently pacing his room, ignorant to his surroundings.

"GoldenDeath?"

The younger male jumped, obviously startled as he refocused his attention to the other person in the room. "Oh, Chase, when did you get here?"

"Just now. Are you...alright?"

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair, now let down again. "Oh, SacredHeart, I don't know, Chase, I just don't know anymore."

Chase moved forward, pulling GoldenDeath onto the bed in a seated position by his shoulders as the distressed youth went on. "As if there aren't _enough_ problems as it is, there's this war to deal with now! The Belluxivans _alone_ have so much money that they could _literally_ buy a silver platter to serve us on, everyone that's ever gone up against the Xyenites has died horribly, and the Selvitarians might as well be the crossbreed of Amazons and Spartans! I just don't see how we can get out of this..."

Having his hands occupied by lightly rubbing GoldenDeath's shoulders, Chase gently nuzzled the prince's cheek, murmuring, "You're _far_ too tense for a nineteen-year-old, regardless of your status. I should think you need to relax a bit..."

Just barely catching the lusty undertone of the sentence, the prince warned, "Chase, don't even th—"

The warning was cut off as GoldenDeath was abruptly turned and pressed to the bed, lips smothered by those of the older man now above him. Though he tried to force Chase off of him, his efforts were entirely fruitless, being of worse position and smaller frame than his current captor.

As Chase's mouth moved down to explore his throat, GoldenDeath once more protested, "Chase, we shouldn't be—aah!" The man had inexplicably sunk his fangs into the prince's flesh, right at the junction of shoulder and neck, effectively silencing his pet once more. His hands had already found their way into the black robes, and GoldenDeath's skin seemed to ignite wherever Chase's long fingers made contact.

Ignoring a slight tingle that shot down his spine from the bleeding wound on his neck, GoldenDeath helplessly tangled a hand in the long, dark hair of his soon-to-be husband, practically purring when the man slowly dragged his tongue across his lightly muscled chest.

When his lips were once again met by Chase's, and he was able to taste his own blood in the kiss, GoldenDeath stopped resisting the man, choosing to throw caution to the wind this time.

Just before all logic fled the prince's mind, he was able to make out the heated words, "Happy birthday, Death..."


	13. Chapter 13

GoldenDeath was warm. That was the first thing his mind was able to register. The second thing was the residual soreness from the night previous, and after that, the fact that his bed was completely empty excluding himself.

Sitting up and taking a quick glance at his surroundings, he saw that Chase was indeed not there and, upon even closer examinations, there was no evidence to suggest he had even been there in the first place.

His body on autopilot, GoldenDeath got up and dressed (not even caring that his body was far more fluid in comparison to the tenseness of the past few days) while allowing his mind to wander.

Why had he given in to Chase? Well, it _had_ been pleasurable, he admitted, but the prince had practically _known_ that this would be the outcome of the scenario, and once again, he had allowed himself to be used. Granted, it was a different kind of use than the usual, but _still_. In his defense, though, he was a teenage virgin boy faced with a gorgeous and powerful man who was actually _trying_ to seduce him: he never stood a chance.

He stood at his mirror now, noting that he had absently decided on an entirely black outfit, without a single hint of color. This definitely fit his emotional pattern, as in his worse moods, he had a tendency to prefer clothing that showed off as little skin as possible without so much as a trace of his once-beloved gold; in such moods, gold was far too bright and happy for him. He'd even been known to alter the streaks in his hair and change his eye color to fit his black moods, but today was not one of those days. Maybe later if he still felt like it, but it was _way_ too early to manage that kind of concentration.

All of a sudden, he felt a warm pulse along the side of his neck, not painful, but definitely foreign, and then Chase's familiar voice almost immediately after.

"Finally awake, are you?" GoldenDeath turned to see the man leaning casually against a wall, giving him the most smug look he had ever displayed, which (after several centuries or so of living) was saying something.

Little did the young prince know that it was Chase's (and by transition, his inner dragon's) pure sense of pride in having claimed such a pretty little creature as his own with so little resistance.

"Chase…I…yeah." He honestly had no idea what to say to Chase, and was practically stunned that he had deemed fit to speak to him so soon after callously using him.

"Hmm…you still look a little tense, Death. Unhappy to see me?" A look of uncertainty flashed across the youth's porcelain face, giving Chase cause to frown in displeasure. "Come to me."

The command left no room for argument, the tone firm and authoritative. Normally, GoldenDeath would have (being in such a mood as he was) blatantly refused, possibly even going on to rant about being taken advantage of and perhaps even swearing off Chase's presence altogether (an understandable reaction, the reader should be assured). Instead, imagine his shock when a part of his mind suddenly pressured the rest of his body to obey, desiring closeness to his betrothed, and he couldn't help but do so.

The instant the hesitant prince had moved close enough, Chase snatched him by the waist, ignoring the struggling that followed as he came back to himself. "Calm yourself."

Almost against his will, GoldenDeath's muscles relaxed, his fighting against his captor fading abruptly as that troublesome part of his mind demanded his submission to the dragon.

This thought gave him pause.

"…What have you done to me…?"

Chase was not stupid and knew exactly what was being referred to by the question. Deftly tugging away the section cloth that covered up GoldenDeath's throat, he exposed a small bit of skin, flushed a reddish-pink and warm to the touch. It was in the shape of a dragon that curled around itself similar to (though distinctly different than) an Ouroboros. "I have bound you to me, linked our lifeforces through magic."

"Wh…what?" GoldenDeath was absolutely floored by the blunt statement, and was entirely unable to produce any more of a reaction at the moment.

"Yes," Chase confirmed. "When I bit you last night, I claimed you as mine, in simplest terms, tying your essence to my essence."

"Wait a minute! So what does this mean for me, then?!" The shock had worn off, outrage replacing it almost instantly.

"Not very much, actually. The main and most important aspect of any 'life-altering' effects is that you are unable to age or die until I do."

"Huh?" The prince blinked, surprised. "You mean if you get killed," unlikely as the event was, there _was_ a chance it could happen, "I'd die too?"

"That was the idea." Chase smirked, noting that his mate was particularly attractive when lost in deep though, eyebrows furrowed and soft, pretty lips in a minute and contemplative frown.

"What if I got killed?"

"You won't," Chase assured. "I'll always know where you are now," his fingers lightly stroked over the mark on the youth's throat, and his more possessive side wanted to outright laugh at how _easy_ it was to make GoldenDeath cuddle against him helplessly, "and we will always have a connection. You _won't_ be killed."

Realizing abruptly that he was nearly purring at his lover's gentle touch, GoldenDeath forced himself back to reality, shoving Chase away and demanding, "What about _that_ , then?! What the hell is _that_?!"

Chase grinned playfully, innocently asking, "What's _what,_ Death?"

"Oh, you know very well, what!" he huffed indignantly, "Why am I suddenly compelled to submit to your every little whim?!"

"Ah, _that,_ " the dragon concluded as if in realization, "It wouldn't make sense to you that my thoughts and desires may influence yours from now on, would it?"

"A little too much sense actually! So, what, I'm under your control forever now?"

"Control? On the contrary, my exact word was 'influence'. It's merely a mild sway over your will-power. While I _do_ like my belongings to be obedient to me, it would be boring to be faced with instant and will-less submission constantly."

"A mild sway?" GoldenDeath laughed sarcastically. "That felt a hell of a lot stronger than _mild_ , Chase!" He had chosen not to snark about the 'belongings' comment rather than overlooked it.

"Of course it did," the man spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You woke up less than ten minutes ago, and your mental defenses are weaker than usual right now because you're still tired. At any other time, it should be easier to resist my influence if you so choose."

"Okay...fine, then," GoldenDeath nodded, forcing down his anger in favor of attempting to make sense of the entire situation. "So why did you mark me in the first place?"

"We will be married soon," Chase stated matter-of-factly. "It is a crucial time, being that just about _everyone_ seems against you—"

"Thanks," the prince interjected flatly.

"And with the otherwise nature of the situation," he carried on as if GoldenDeath hadn't spoken at all, "it will be necessary for us to work together. For everything to go off without a hitch, so to speak, a minimal connection on the mental level is required."

"..." GoldenDeath was utterly silent for a moment, shadowing his eyes with golden bangs. "...So the rest of last night was meaningless? Just a way to get that mark on my neck?"

Chase sighed, exasperated, and pulled the youth back to him. "What reason have I given you to believe something like that?"

GoldenDeath scoffed. "How about those years back on Earth? The way you treated me...and even now, how you're acting like I'm property?" There was the call-back to the 'belongings' comment! "Just because you say something different now, I'm supposed to believe that all that hatred just...went away?" The rant had cost GoldenDeath much composure as he was forced to actually realize the truth in his own words, and tears flowed freely now while he choked back a sob.

Chase showed no expression as he gently hushed the prince, wiping his tears away with one hand and lightly running the other over his back. "You aren't the same as you were on Earth, and we both know it. Just because I'm not fond of a character an actor played does not mean I suddenly hate the actor." GoldenDeath sniffled, his yellow eyes wide and shining with tears as he focused his attention on Chase and what he was saying. "I openly admit that I never liked Jack Spicer, but I just as freely admit that I feel the opposite for the actor behind the mask: you, GoldenDeath. You are _not_ my slave, or my lackey, nor anything of the sort. I acknowledge you as my mate, and you should do the same."

"...Mate?" the prince squeaked in surprise, "You—you're serious? You're not...screwing with my head or anything?"

Chase frowned at his lover's stubborn insistence of his own little masochistic reality. "Sometimes things aren't as complicated as you make them out to be. It _is_ possible for something to be taken at face value, on a simple level."

GoldenDeath blinked, allowing himself a moment of mental joy. Chase was saying that he was his mate: a partner and an equal! He hadn't realized how right that 'inner part of himself' had been when it said he had wanted this to happen, but he certainly realized it now! This...this was _real..._ For the first time in his life, GoldenDeath had someone in his life who would remain a constant, who wasn't likely to succumb to death despite those pesky things in his life that would deny him any kind of happiness, like LeatherKnife, CrimsonClaw, and even the wa—...

The war...

The prince gasped as the subject registered in his subconscious. "Simple...that's it!"

GoldenDeath abruptly leapt forward onto Chase, nearly tackling the man to the ground, smiling broadly before kissing him full on the lips. "I love you, Chase! Thanks, gotta go, bye!" And with that he dashed quickly from the room, nearly knocking over the entering MauveBane, to whom he paid no mind, too caught up in his sudden excitement.

Staring blankly at the doorway, the Kitavran blinked, asking, "What's with him?"

Swiftly returning to his senses after the youth's spontaneous kiss and declaration of love, Chase shrugged casually before cutting right to the point. "Was there something you wanted from me, MauveBane, or will you need to hunt down GoldenDeath now?"

"Actually, this _does_ concern you and not Death, surprisingly enough, but, uh...I'd be prepared to deal with the King if I were you."

"CrimsonClaw?" Chase asked, cocking an eyebrow at the unexpected subject matter curiously.

"Yeah, he says he wants to discuss something with you. As a matter of fact, so do I."

"Oh?" the man challenged, arms crossed and the rest of his body in a stance that said, 'what threat are _you_ to me?'

"Yeah," MauveBane frowned lightly, stepping closer to Chase in warning of confrontation, "it's about that creep that kept hitting on Death. Did you kill him?"

"Yes," he answered without hesitation, "I killed him."

"Why?" It was obvious that the green-eyed man was not surprised in the least, merely questioning of the dragon's motive behind the action.

"He believed himself superior to me, _better_ than me." It went unsaid that such utter ignorance wouldn't be tolerated.

"He believed he was better for GoldenDeath?" A single nod was his answer. "What about you, then? Do you think that _you're_ good for him?"

"Yes, I do." It was an instant response, as no thought was needed for the reply. GoldenDeath was his mate, of course he would take care of him!

"Oh, really? Well, if you killed LavenderEntropy, what's to stop you from doing the same to Death?"

"Honestly? Nothing at all." Nothing but what was left of his black heart was preventing such an act.

Green stared into intense gold for a long serious moment before MauveBane smiled easily, clapping a hand on Chase's shoulder. "I approve!"

"Of what, dare I ask?" Chase hated that MauveBane had such a tendency to throw him in conversation by saying the strangest things.

"Of the marriage, what else? As the unofficial father of the bride, it's my duty to protect Death from the same kind of loveless marriage his biological parents went through, and I've gotta say, I'm not worried. I doubt you'd ever admit it out loud, but I can tell that you love him." Before Chase's pride could demand a witty retort, MauveBane continued, "Now go on and have that 'oh so pleasant' chat with the King. He's in his study. You remember where that is, right?" Chase nodded, and MauveBane, having said what he'd come to say, turned to leave.

"Oh, and Chase?" he posed as an afterthought, "If Death ends up pregnant before you're married, it _will_ be a shotgun wedding."

Of course, he was gone before Chase had time to argue.

 

* * *

 

ArcaneThorn jumped, startled as GoldenDeath practically bounded into the gardens where he had been loitering to give him an exuberant hug.

"Death? What's gotten into you? You're never this... _happy_ this early." Surely, nothing short of CrimsonClaw's death could cause such perk at this before-noon hour.

"I know, but this is good news, I mean _really_ good news!" Indeed, GoldenDeath was so excited by his revelation that he couldn't, and neither did he try to, control the pigment changing of his eyes, and they rapidly flashed from one color to the next, leaving ArcaneThorn to simply blink at him, curious.

"Good news?" the dark-haired man questioned, tilting his head to the side slightly. "Should I arrange funeral plans for your father or your nanny?" He spoke the titles with no small hint of scorn; he was a mother (surrogate, but nonetheless biological in spirit), and any who would hurt his child were rotten scum in his eyes. "Or is that far too much to hope for?"

"Oh..." Death contemplated for a minute, his eyes fading back to daisy-yellow as the excitement of the moment died down. "Well, that _would_ make for a perfect day, but this is still a pretty good thing!"

ArcaneThorn's eyebrow shot up at the tone: normally being reminded that his constant tormentors were still alive put the prince in a dour mood, but he had recovered from the pause so quickly and with such enthusiasm! This _must_ be a good thing! "Well, then, what on Kitavra are you keeping me in suspense for? What's going on in that devious little mind of yours?"

The prince's eyes glittered connivingly and his mouth quirked into an impish grin. "It's _simple_..."

 

* * *

 

"Ah, BlackDragon! So glad you could join me," CrimsonClaw's gruff voice pierced the relative quiet of the book-filled study. "Come, sit," he gestured to a plush armchair next to the one he himself sat in. "I should like to speak with you awhile."

Chase complied, allowing his reptilian eyes to lazily inspect the room that the Kitavran king called his study.

It was a room decorated in warm colors, mainly reds and browns, and the only source of light, as the drapes were drawn tightly as if to seal out the morning light, was the crackling blaze of the fireplace near which the two chairs were positioned.

"So," the king called attention back to himself, "you may have had it brought to your notice that Senator LavenderEntropy was found murdered this morning.  Am I correct in assuming so, BlackDragon?"

"Yes, I have heard," he stiffly replied. "Death is a terrible business."

"Hm," the king nodded, agreeing, "indeed, that is so." There was a long pause before he continued speaking. "I seem to have noticed some...tension between you and the Senator while he was alive. It's a pity you were unable to get along."

"Yes, I suppose some people just can't be friendly with each other." Chase refused to let CrimsonClaw in on anything he didn't already know.

"..." The king was silent for another long moment, sizing his future son-in-law up. "What if I said I suspected you of taking LavenderEntropy's life?"

Chase's mild expression twisted into a frown. "I'd say 'prove it', CrimsonClaw."

He who believed himself the elder of the two chuckled maliciously, locking gold-to-gold in an intense stare. "He was no obstacle to you. I freely gave you my son's hand and told the Senator that he no longer had a place as the next king. I _know_ you killed him, but there was no reason for you to do so."

"On the contrary," Chase informed the other, no longer caring if the king knew, "I had _every_ reason to kill him. He tried to steal from me, and I am not easily tolerant of petty theft, especially when it concerns that which is _mine._ "

CrimsonClaw laughed again, looking extremely pleased with the answer. "Ah, ruthless, vicious, and violent! Unwilling to let minor, inferior obstacles stand in your way!" He sighed, smiling. "It's so _good_ to see a young man after my own heart."

Chase only frowned minutely in response to the comment, and CrimsonClaw carried on, taking no notice of the expression.

"You will make a fine ruler, my boy, a fine ruler indeed. I am glad to finally have a worthy successor. I should hope that if I pass on or retire before this _grand_ war is over, that you will take up the fight in my place?"

Doing his best to ignore his dragon, roaring in primal fury at the man's praise of a war that had nearly brought _his_ precious mate to tears from the sheer stress, Chase nodded in the affirmative.

"Hmm, good..." A wide smile stretched the king's face, reminiscent of a cat that had gotten the cream. "There will be a short ceremony later tonight, a formality for the war declaration. I would be honored if you would attend." Chase gave another nod. "Well, then, that is all I wished to discuss with you, and now that I am confident in your ability to succeed me, you may leave, _after_ I tell you this word of advice: my son is one of the biggest disappointments of my life," Chase had to use an even greater amount of will-power to suppress the raging beast within him, "but the boy is nothing if not ambitious. I have tried, over the years, to crush his spirit, even going so far as to hire that murderous nanny of his and allowing him to kill my wife, but he has withstood every attempt on his sanity and life. Do not underestimate him, BlackDragon, because if given the chance, he will take everything from you, of that I am sure. Keep him in line, my boy, don't be a victim to one such as he."

"I'll keep that in mind, CrimsonClaw." And to think Chase had doubted the insanity of his mate's father for even a second!

Picking up some nameless book, CrimsonClaw missed the sneer directed at him from the dragon warlord as he left the room.

 

* * *

 

ArcaneThorn stared blankly at the dark-haired teenager before him. " _That's_ your plan?" GoldenDeath nodded eagerly. "But that's so...so—"

"Basic," the prince described for him, " _simple_. It's perfect!"

"How is it perfect exactly? It's _so_ obvious that—"

"So obvious that no one would expect such a move from me. Everything I've done so far, every move up until this point has been complex, convoluted, and confusing, and it had to be, because CrimsonClaw and LeatherKnife couldn't suspect me of any actions against them. Now they're predicting my actions through being complicated. The only way I can throw them off is by a mental reversion, thinking simply!"

The blue-eyed man was silent for a moment. "...That...that actually makes a good deal of sense, GoldenDeath," the prince smirked proudly, only to frown as the man added, "even though a four-year-old probably could have come up with the same thing far quicker."

"Hey!" the youth protested indignantly, "I don't see you coming up with anything better." Turning and crossing his arms with a huff, he decided, "You're just jealous _you_ didn't think of it."

ArcaneThorn laughed, amused at the childish comeback. "Well, it's logically sound enough to work, but that's provided your father doesn't interfere and that LeatherKnife doesn't kill you before you can execute it. How are you going to make sure of those two things?"

"Oh, don't worry," GoldenDeath grinned wickedly, "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve, yet. The official declaration of war is later tonight, and that's my perfect opportunity to...inherit the throne, if you will."

ArcaneThorn inhaled sharply, an aghast expression overtaking his features. "You can't mean...tonight?!"

"Yes, Thorn, tonight...CrimsonClaw dies." A certain bloodlust lit up GoldenDeath's eyes, and it was obvious that he was _more_ than ready for payback on his wicked father for the years of mistreatment.

"Is...is there something you want me to do?" Though gentle by nature, ArcaneThorn wouldn't hesitate to do what he could to help Death.

"No, that's okay, Thorn," the prince assured, calming the other's uneasiness with a gentle hand to his shoulder. "I'm pretty sure Chase and I can handle this one. You can just sit on the sidelines."

"Oh, thank you," ArcaneThorn sighed, relieved, "but if there's anything you need, anything at all—"

"I won't debate on whether or not to ask," GoldenDeath cut off with a smile. "Don't worry about this. I've got it covered, alright?"

"I'm sure you do. But just promise me," the man pleaded, laying his hands on the prince's shoulders, "that you'll be careful. I...I can't have any children if something happens to you, and even if I could, they wouldn't be able to take your place." Tears welled up in his navy blue eyes, and he hugged the youth close to him. "I can't lose you!"

GoldenDeath's sharp eyes softened and he returned the hug with equal emotion. "You won't lose me," he soothed, "I promise...mom."

ArcaneThorn gasped at the new designation, and he finally lost his battle against the tears, sparkling droplets of emotion cascading down his cheeks and over the wave-like black markings.

Despite being his maternal guardian for the better part of his life, GoldenDeath had never once called ArcaneThorn 'mom', saying that it somehow didn't feel right while he had a real mother. The man was understanding of the fact, but for the eight years he and MauveBane were entrusted with the prince's education and safekeeping respectively, he always got a mild thrill of happiness that GoldenDeath even refused to use the honorific to his real mother. Now that EtherealRain was gone, though...he could finally have that title, that position in his, dare he say it?, _son's_ life.

GoldenDeath himself blinked as that strange pulse of the mark on his neck returned, and he looked to the gate of the gardens, seeing Chase and MauveBane standing there, simply observing the scene.

Realizing he no longer had the prince's full attention, ArcaneThorn looked up to see the two men and scrambled to wipe away his tears, embarrassed. "G—go on, Death," he managed, flustered, "your man needs you."

GoldenDeath gave him an unreadable expression for a moment before giving himself a slight boost in height in order to place a kiss on ArcaneThorn's forehead. Without another word, he dashed off to the gate and Chase's side, and the two of them turned and headed into the castle, most likely to form a battle plan.

MauveBane had taken the moment to saunter past the pale flowers and up to his beloved, a chiding smile on his face. Curling an arm around his waist, he spoke, "Now what could possibly make my brave ArcaneThorn cry, hm?"

Not even bothering to form an intelligent comeback, the blue-eyed man placed his hands on his lover's chest, answering, "He called me 'mom', Bane...he called me 'mom'!"

MauveBane himself only offered a knowing smile in return to the joyous statement. "It was only a matter of time, Thorn. After all, he _is_ our boy."


	14. Chapter 14

"Are you clear on what is required of you?"

"Yes."

"You know exactly what you are going to do?"

"Yes."

"Are you ready?"

"...Probably not," GoldenDeath admitted, running a hand through his dark hair.

Chase lay a hand on the younger's shoulder, giving a slight, reassuring squeeze. "Regardless, all of this is happening within a few hours. It doesn't matter to them if you're ready or not. Either the war stops here, or it ends with your home-planet's destruction, _including_ MauveBane and ArcaneThorn."

Death took a deep, calming breath, acknowledging, "Yeah...I know."

"Can you _really_ do this, or are you just bluffing?"

"I can do it, okay?!" the prince snapped, whirling about angrily towards his fiancé, only for his rage to freeze in it's tracks upon seeing the still-completely blank expression, but the _barest_ hints of hurt and shock in those golden eyes. "Ugh, I'm sorry, Chase...I just...it's not everyday I have to kill someone, you know?"

The warlord gave a knowing nod. "I understand. Believe it or not, it was the same way for me."

"...When you first killed someone?" GoldenDeath had never really thought about how Chase had become who he was; in his head, he just sort of assumed he had always been the Chase Young that he knew. It had never even occurred to him that _everybody_ has their beginnings somewhere, even kick-ass, martial artist, evil everlords.

"Yes, the first taste of bloodshed takes everyone in about the same way. In fact, you've already experienced it."

Death blinked in surprise. "I have?"

"Of course," Chase stated, raising an eyebrow, "or have you supressed the memory of your mother's death?"

A shudder rippled through the youth's body as the memory, _certainly_ not repressed, came back. "No, I remember...you mean that counts as 'my first taste of bloodshed'?"

"Yes. As I recall, there were organs strewn about and blood spilled just about everywhere, and you were there to see it."

GoldenDeath hmphed, crossing his arms. "Yeah, well...I could have handled it better. All I did was puke, cry, and essentially forget about it."

"You handled it a lot better than you think." At the prince's prompting stare, Chase continued, "The majority of the media, television, motion pictures, novels, and even comic books portray death and coping with death in an inaccurate manner. Most people live out their whole lives believing that if they were to see a complete stranger killed brutally in front of them, that they would walk away utterly unscarred simply because it wasn't someone that they knew. The truth of the matter is that the human psyche has a great deal of trouble coming to grips with gore and violence, most likely because of the large gaps between fictional slaughter and real."

"...What about you? How did you deal with it?"

Chase sighed softly, sitting on the edge of the black silk bedspread. "Mostly the same way you did. I was haunted by the image for weeks, though."

"Really?!" Death exclaimed, shocked, "But, but, you kill people like it's nothing!"

"I've had practice," he answered simply, "If you are to be living with me, I would expect you to get used to it rather quickly. You'll be exposed to gore and violence fairly often."

"Oh, joy," GoldenDeath was obviously much less than joyful at the prospect.

"Relax," Chase once again assured, "you won't be as unprepared for it as before. It isn't horrifyingly new to your mind anymore. That's not to say killing him will be as easy as stopping his heartbeat and walking away, but I doubt you'll vomit again."

The prince only made a soft grunt of acknowledgement, moving over to sift through his dresser, raiding it for items he wanted to keep. Plucking out a spiked pacifier, Death scowled, tossing it over his shoulder onto the ground, muttering, "No wonder there's a damn scar on my tongue...fucker..."

"What are you doing, now, mate?" Chase asked with mild curiosity.

"Just getting some things packed," came the blunt answer, and the warlord was forced to stand as a large bronze wrench was thrown to the bed, along with a small bag of screws and bolts.

"For what?"

GoldenDeath paused in what he was doing to meet his (almost) husband's eyes. "Do you think we're staying _here_ after we stop this stupid war from happening? I love two people on this planet. That's not enough to keep me here, especially with all the other bad memories I have about this place, what with a homicidal nanny and a father who hates my guts."

"Well, just how many people do you love on Earth?" Chase challenged, "As I recall, you never really got along well with anyone there."

"One. I loved one person on Earth, and just because he's here now, doesn't mean he wants to stay. Besides," turning back to meet the surprised golden gaze, the prince coyly disputed, "what will your warriors do without you?"

A challenging smirk was sent right back. "Touché. Earth it is, then."

 _"Damn,"_ GoldenDeath thought, _"that was easier than I thought it'd be..."_

"Of course it was. You always assume _everything_ to be the worst possible outcome."

"Oh," the prince scowled, "shut up, you!" Of course, then he realized he hadn't said that out loud. "Did you just read my mind?!"

"Yes," Chase answered, brushing back his hair with his fingers, "you seemed distracted, and I was curious. I'll try to respect your privacy from now on."

Less freaked out about it that he probably should be, the youth thought the elder's sentence over in his head for a moment. "...I notice you used the word, 'try'. That doesn't imply that you'll stop altogether."

The warlord only grinned at him.

"Of course," he muttered, before deciding there was nothing of interest in his drawer any longer and decided to move onto the dreaded closet.

Noting that Chase was still there, he asked, "Don't you have somewhere to be? Like with MauveBane, getting ready for the war declaration ceremony?"

"That can wait, can't it?"

GoldenDeath jumped slightly upon feeling Chase's warm body move up just behind him, the man's fingers curling around his upper-arms, and a shiver shot down the prince's spine at the moist, hot breath ghosting along his neck. "Don't you desire me, my mate? Doesn't your body _hunger_ for my touch?"

It was true, and the younger of the two felt an ache beginning to form in his very bones, wanting nothing more than to be touched, and tasted, and _had_ by his mate...

Yellow eyes widened abruptly, and he elbowed Chase in the stomach, releasing the grip on him as he whirled around to glare at the everlord. "Another of your tricks?"

The answering smirk was sharp and conniving, and it was all the answer the young prince needed.

"Ugh, okay, I totally don't have time for this. Can you just go and find MauveBane, please? I can't really afford to make like rabbits with you at a crucial time like this."

A black chuckle from the man as he assured, "We _will_ resume this later, dear one," before exiting the room.

GoldenDeath flopped lifelessly onto his bed at Chase's departure, massaging the bridge of his nose in aggravation before reluctantly forcing himself to his feet.

He had a lot of closet-sorting to do before it would be time to kill his father.

 

* * *

 

Chase's golden eyes warily roamed over the two beings he now observed within the confines of the throne room, the Kitavrans entirely unaware of his prescence as he concealed himself in shadows.

The haughty, commandeering man and the sadistic, psychotic one, the dragon knew, would soon be unable to boast of a heartbeat, a fact he was immensely pleased about, but he couldn't help but wonder if he had made the right choice.

Both had caused his GoldenDeath so much pain as a child, but which one had done the worst damage?

In other words, which one should he allow his lover to kill with his own hands?

LeatherKnife had psychologically abused the prince, made him fear for his survival knowing that his very life had been willingly entrusted in this clearly mentally-unstable being, and there was always the constant fear of being taken to some secluded area and tortured horribly just because the blunette was his legal guardian and had just-as-legal rights to where he went. No one would stop the man should he decide to claim he was just taking the boy out for a picnic while he really dragged him into an alley and slowly carved out bits of his flesh. Surely, this deserved, nay, _demanded_ punishment, retribution, but...

But CrimsonClaw...

The king had abused his son psychologically as well, making him feel worthless, useless, a stain upon his very race. To that man, the only thing his son was good for was murder, a tool to use against his enemies with no regard to his own well-being. And his abuse, too, became physical, and he had gone so far as to expose his only son to radiation on such a regular basis that he had _gotten used to_ being irradiated.

Upon rethinking, Chase decided he had chosen perfectly: GoldenDeath would be able to enact his revenge on the man who had treated him so callously both when he was young and even now as he began adulthood, and he himself would prove his devotion to his intended husband by killing LeatherKnife, the greatest symbol of the king's hatred bestowed upon the young prince.

_Soon..._

_  
_

* * *

 

A black, gold-edged comb stroked through dark hair, smoothing out the slightest of tangles that were there.

_A hand cracked across his cheek, the backhand sending him to the floor with a harsh thud, the slightest of cracking noises emitting from his shoulder as it yielded to the unforgiving marble tile._

Pale hands gathered up the black hair, pinning it into a high ponytail with a golden band.

_Pale hands shaking as he tried desperately to get back to his feet, to comply with the orders given to him. He had to keep training._

"Death, are you almost ready? The ceremony will begin in less than twenty minutes."

_"GoldenDeath are you worth **anything**?! If you insist upon being such a useless little whelp, I just may decide you aren't worth the trouble and kill you where you stand!"_

The prince took a deep, calming breath, inhaling and exhaling deeply before he answered. "Yes, ArcaneThorn," he glanced at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes sharpening with a dark emotion, "I'm ready."

 

* * *

 

"We have gathered here, delegates of Kitavra, Selvitar, Beluxiva, and Xyenon, to formally declare war upon each other."

CrimsonClaw's commandeering voice reached every corner of the room from the podium he stood at, demanding the attention of all present with ease. BlackDragon sat calmly to the man's right, and to his right was GoldenDeath, both entirely serious and stern-looking. They knew that this was not the day a war would begin.

This was the day a king and a murderer would die.

"Selvitarian delegate, do you accept the prospect of war?"

The large, reptilian creature stood, the movement of his bulky form causing his formal armor to clink against itself and his dark orange scales as his long snout, filled with sharp, crooked teeth, opened to growl out, "The Selvitarian delegate accepts on behalf of all Mother Selvitar."

"Acknowledged. Beluxivan delegate, do you also accept the prospect of war?"

"Yes," the man spoke as he rose to his hooves, his yellow skin a stark contrast to his dark blue hair and his six total (three on either eide of his face) green eyes, "the Beluxivan delegate accepts the declaration."

"Acknowledged. And the Xyenite delegate, do you accept, as well?"

The small blue creature levitated from the chair, her large, violet eyes entirely serious as she telepathically answered, _"Xyenon_ _accepts_ _the_ _barbaric_ _challenge_ _of_ _Kitavra."_

"Well, then," CrimsonClaw grinned, "it appears that all is in order. As a formality, Kitavra would also like to declare that we—"

"Do not accept this war."

The congregation gasped aloud in shock as GoldenDeath stood confidently from his chair, eyes fixed firmly on his father.

"GoldenDeath?! What do you think you're doing?! You have no authority here, you are only a prince!" The king was absolutely furious at his son's insubordination.

"On the contrary," the young man smirked, "I will soon be a king." With that, his fist cracked across the older man's jaw, knocking him back a few steps as GoldenDeath then delivered another punch to his father's abdomen, causing the man to double over in pain. "Regretting my training already, _dad_?"

LeatherKnife stood from his seat, which had been to the left of CrimsonClaw, chuckling, "Ah, Golden-boy, do you really think that's a good idea? With me around, you should be on your best behavior, like a good little boy..."

"My mate will behave however he likes," Chase growled, glowering at the blunette as his hand wiped away the black ink on his cheek, "and I will have no one commanding him but me."

If the delegates and important types were shocked when GoldenDeath had struck his father, they were dumbstruck now, and several people muttered various things, one word standing out most prominently: 'human'. Several of the weak-hearted fainted then and there.

"You challenging me, gecko?" the man questioned, a devilish smirk on his face and a sinister look in his obsidian eyes.

Snarling at the blatant insult, Chase nodded, assuring, "I'm challenging you, aberration."

LeatherKnife cackled viciously, his head tossed back from the sheer mirth he found in it before he returned his gaze to the warlord before him, an excited light in his eyes as he spoke, "Bring it on, human."

The Kitavran threw a punch at Chase, blocked by the man's forearm before the blunette's foot was caught by Chase's, throwing him off-balance and knocking him to the floor, but not before he grabbed a hold of the other, dragging him down with him.

As the two aggressive males began all-out fighting, GoldenDeath slammed his father up against the wall, hand locked tightly around the man's throat as he growled, "I _hate_ you, father, I hate everything _about_ you!"

LeatherKnife's arm shifted into a sword and he thrust it upwards at the man on top of him, Chase only barely managing to avoid serious injury by rolling off of the other, the metal weapon only leaving the smallest of grazes on his side as his own arm morphed into a scaled, dragon claw which slashed at the Kitavran's chest, leaving five deep cuts in his flesh.

"You made me feel like nothing from the minute I was born! You acted as if I was something meant to be wiped off of your shoe instead of your only son!"

Chase cried out in slight pain as the blade sliced deeply into his shoulder, the combination of pain and rage at this creature practically _forcing_ a full transformation, and the beast roared at the infuriating male before him, his sharp, tooth-filled maw snapping shut around the offending limb-weapon and tearing it clean off.

A pained look crossed the prince's face as he pleaded of his father, " _Why_? Why couldn't you just...love me? Like dads are supposed to love their kids? Why did you have to... _Why_?"

Far from angered at the loss of his arm, LeatherKnife laughed hysterically, changing his remaining arm into a mace and cracking it across the lizard's jaw knocking him backwards off of him.

"GoldenDeath...I see now that I was wrong." The young man's eyes lit up with hope at his father's words, only for it to be crushed out of him again as he finished, "I was wrong to think you could _ever_ be more than a pathetic little crybaby! You are and always will be worthless!"

Chase's tail slammed hard into the Kitavran's form, sending him sliding a few feet over the floor, giving him time to stand and firmly plant one sharp-taloned foot on LeatherKnife's windpipe in triumph.

"I see..." GoldenDeath muttered softly. "There's nothing for it, then."

The lizard exerted an immense amount of pressure on the murderer's throat, gratified to hear it snap under his foot with a wet crunch.

A golden flash emitted from the prince's eyes, illuminating the room briefly as CrimsonClaw's flesh and bone, organs and nerves, every last vein in his body hardened, solidified into gold, forever freezing the man in death.

Expression blank as he gazed at his father, now nothing more than a lifeless statue, GoldenDeath breathed deeply for a moment, before giving the Kitavran-shaped object a dismissive shove, the large thing clattering to the floor with a loud clang, causing all present to wince at the harsh noise.

Chase shifted back into a humanesque form, nudging LeatherKnife's body out of his way as he approached the podium, addressing the crowd, "If you'll all kindly be polite and give your attention, I believe King GoldenDeath has something he would like to speak to you about."

Given minute pause at the new title, GoldenDeath nonetheless walked forward, Chase stepping back a bit to give the Kitavran the floor, and the young man coughed lightly before putting his simple strategy into action. "Let's not go to war."

"What?!" the room echoed, shocked to the core by the plain, blunt statement, probably used to people dancing around the issue instead of getting straight to the point.

"I said 'let's not go to war'. It's completely stupid, and it would be a waste of all of our time. Selvitarian, what's your name?"

The lizard blinked, growling, "Salaru."

"Okay, Salaru, tell me if this is right: in Selvitarian culture, it's one of the worst punishable crimes to engage in combat with an unarmed or unwilling enemy."

"That...that is correct." Salaru was considerably startled at being so casually addressed in such a hoity-toity place. It was more like he was back home, talking with friends as opposed to at a formal ceremony and with a stranger.

"Well, without my participation, Kitavra is most certainly unarmed, and I'm sure the majority of us are unwilling, so unless your entire planet wants to suffer the punishment of that crime, it'd be in your best interests to call off the entire thing, right?"

"I...yes. Yeah, that's true." The lizard grinned good-naturedly at the Kitavran king. "Selvitar retracts its proposition of war."

Chase smirked slightly at the ease with which his lover had resolved the conflict, but kept silent, waiting to see how he would handle the others.

"What about you Belluxivan delegate? Do you have a name, too?"

"It's Deravin."

"Okay, Deravin, certainly you, a man of Belluxiva must know a lot about economics."

"A lot?" the male creature scoffed with a laugh, "There are exactly 247 required classes centered _solely_ on the basis of finance and economic gain in our schools."

"Alright, then," GoldneDeath conceded, "so you _must_ know the kind of drain war has on any given economy. Tell me: is that something you want for your planet? That kind of intense poverty?"

Now, _this_ got Deravin's attention, and all of his eyes went wide while his hooves shuffled anxiously. If there was anything that could scare a Beluxivan, it was the thought of being poor. "Beluxiva also retracts its proposition of war."

The newly-made king stepped down from his podium and approached the final delegate, moving to rest on his knees in front of her with his head bowed. "And you, most honorable delegate of Xyenon?"

The tiny female twitched in surprise, her large violet eyes blinking owlishly. _"I am called Niyriaz. You...you know our customs, young one?"_

"Yes, Madam Niyriaz, unlike my father, I have had many a global curiosity and have researched extensively on your people. I am aware that in order to respectively greet one of high status on your planet, a lower position and the avoidance of eye-contact are key."

 _"...My... Perhaps your race is not as barbaric as I had believed..."_ Niyriaz seemed startled to make the discovery, but due to the courtesy she had been given, she was bound to hear the young Kitavran out as he spoke again.

"Madam, if I may be so bold, to participate in this war on your part would be illogical to the extreme. All other delegates have removed themselves from the conflict, and _surely_ one such as you wouldn't even still be thinking of war when other people, less advanced than yours, have already decided against it."

Xyenites were most known for their pride as the most intelligent and advanced beings in all of the universes. To be compared to other primitive races in such a way, to imply that even brutish people like the Selvitarians were less inclined to pointless conflict than they were was nothing short of insulting.

_"Xyenon retracts its proposition of war, as well. We will not engage in needless conflict."_

Uproarious cheering took the room, and GoldenDeath smiled in relief, standing from his kneeling position to take the applause graciously directed at him, only for his arm to be grabbed as he was spun around and pressed into a passionate kiss by Chase, a hand roughly tangling in his hair as he was held against his lover's strong body.

Breaking away, the young king panted questioningly, "Chase?"

"Yes, dear one?" the warlord prompted, gazing down at the youth with an unreadable stare.

"I...before we go home, I...there's something I want to do here..."

"Name it, my mate," Chase promised, "anything you want."

"I...well, I know we don't have to anymore since CrimsonClaw's dead, but...I still want to get married. Right here on Kitavra where it's completely legal...can we?"

"Of course we can, GoldenDeath," Chase answered. "Of course we can still get married. I would like nothing better."

Death smiled happily, yellow eyes glittering with _almost_ tears as he lay his head on his lover's broad chest, nearly whimpering out, "Thank you, Chase. You don't know how much this means to me."

Running his fingers through the young man's dark hair again, Chase assured, "Anything for you, dear one."


	15. Chapter 15

"We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of our esteemed King GoldenDeath and his chosen mate, Chase Young."

The throne room of the palace had quickly been converted into something of a temporary chapel, the thrones themselves relocated to make way for the traditional altar and various artworks of decoration likewise moved to make room for the pews. Naturally, almost the entire kingdom had come out to share in the joy of their new, more benevolent king's marriage to the man of his dreams.

ArcaneThorn and MauveBane had been given front row seats, of course. The proud father smiled approvingly, arm comfortingly around the equally proud mother's shoulders as his grin of joy was masked by tears.

His baby was getting _married_!

"If the beloved would join hands..."

Without hesitation, Chase grasped GoldenDeath's hand in his own, pleased to see a small smile spread across his mate's face.

Death was beyond happy, he was _ecstatic_. After all, _the_ Chase Young, the only human he'd ever given a thought of equality to, much less admiration, found him acceptable, _wanted_ him as wife.

If he could melt, he would have in a heartbeat.

The priestess held a white ribbon of silk high above her head for the congregation to see, speaking, "With this ribbon, I bind the souls of these two for as long as they should live," she tied a neat, little bow around the lovers' conjoined hands, "and though the knot shall come undone, may their hearts never drift apart."

Admittedly, Chase had been somewhat apprehensive about going through with the ceremony. Centuries of life as a bachelor had left him comfortable with no commitments, and in the past, whenever the possibility of it arose, needless to say, he quickly terminated any possibility of such a thing.

GoldenDeath, however, beautiful, intelligent, _loving_ GoldenDeath was different than his past lovers. The young man wasn't only interested in his body or his power. No, Death wanted _all_ of him.

As Jack Spicer, that was one of the things that the warlord had found fascinating despite himself, the ability to be so completely infatuated with him for no other reason than that he existed.

Chase Young _lived_ , and that had been enough to keep Jack, and now GoldenDeath, interested.

 _Unlike_ Jack Spicer, however, GoldenDeath was a proud, strong Kitavran, with skill enough to fend off even those twice his size and a mind sharp enough to contend with a delicate situation in which interplanetary war was at stake. He still had the fascinating trait of devotion that had always drawn Chase to him, but by way of a miracle, the rest of him had become interesting as well the minute he'd ceased to hold the persona the warlord had known for years.

This thought dispelled all doubts about the wedding immediately, and the man squeezed his mate's hand a bit tighter in his own.

GoldenDeath didn't just meet the standards, but instead had _earned_ the title of his spouse, and Chase would gladly give it to him.

The rest of the ceremony happened to be in a very ancient Kitavran tongue, one that was so seldom used that only priests and priestesses knew so much as a word of it anymore, but though it seemed to drag on forever for both Death and Chase as they did no more than stare at the other in longing, the end eventually came.

"The ones named GoldenDeath and Chase Young are now wed—may happiness bless your way through the years!"

Cheers and applause erupted in the room as the warlord refused to wait any longer than necessary, and upon receiving this cue, used his free arm to pull his newly-declared wife as close as possible and kissed him passionately despite the fact that their hands were still bound together by the silk ribbon.

"You are mine," he whispered to the young man when he broke the kiss for air.

"Forever," Death immediately replied, "as long as you want me."

Chase smirked. "Forever it is, then..."

 

* * *

 

"You're splittin' so soon?"

"Yeah, Bane," the newlywed smiled at his surrogate father, appreciative of the arm curled around his back and the subsequent hand on his hip, "I'd never ask Chase to change planets, and I know Earth better than he knows Kitavra, so it's really only fair."

"Death," ArcaneThorn frowned, "what about the kingdom? You're the ruler. What are the people supposed to do with you gone?"

"Already taken care of," GoldenDeath assured, "'cause I'm not the king anymore."

"Huh? Then who the hell is?" MauveBane frowned.

"That'd be you, dad."

"Me?" he gasped, "Since when?"

"This morning," Chase informed his step-father with a smirk. "My mate had all the paperwork filed bright and early."

"Much to your dismay, I seem to remember," the young man teased his lover.

ArcaneThorn and MauveBane shared a look. "Former King GoldenDeath, on the orders of the new King and Queen of the Realm..."

"C'mere and give your old mom and dad a hug!"

The Kitavran in question did so without hesitation, only temporarily separating himself from Chase to obey the command.

"I'm gonna miss you guys," he said quietly.

"We're gonna miss you, too, Death."

"Dear one," Chase Young addressed, holding the small orb recovered from among LeatherKnife's possessions in his hand, "it's time to go."

The dark-haired youth half-smiled, breaking away from the hug and returning to his beloved's side. "Don't fuck up the planet while I'm gone, okay?"

"Aw, you buzzkill!" Bane grumbled, to which his lover smacked him lightly on the arm.

"I'll keep him from wrecking _everything_ ," Thorn assured.

And with a bright flash of light, the newlywed couple was gone.

 

* * *

 

Chase, despite how vehemently he would deny it to any he knew, living or dead, was worried.

GoldenDeath had been exceedingly tired for the past few weeks, and often slept even more than twelve hours daily.

He refused his lover in bed aside from snuggling, and only left said bed to use the bathroom or eat.

When asked if anything was wrong, he would do no more than shake his head and end the conversation.

The warlord's senses were _screaming_ at him that his mate was sick or hurt, and that he had to do something about it, but without knowledge of the situation and no aid from the mate in question in that department, there was really nothing he could do.

The _last_ thing he needed right now was for Wuya to be making a nuisance of herself.

"Chase," she cooed for what had to have been the millionth time since discovering his return to Earth, "I am _useful_ to you. Jack," she laughed, refusing to call the young man by his true name even now that she knew it, "isn't. He hasn't helped you with a single thing for _weeks_! I'll bet he hasn't even satisfied you in bed for—"

"My _mate_ ," he growled firmly at the woman, "is unwell. I expect nothing of him while he is so."

"Some mate," she scoffed, "just sleeps and eats all day, doesn't do a damn thing for you! But I would...I would do anything you asked of me," Wuya assured, "I would even give you an heir, if you wanted. You see, that's something you just can't do with Jackie: have a child..."

"Wuya, I—"

"I can give him a child," a quiet voice spoke, drawing gold and green eyes to the other side of the room where GoldenDeath clung to the frame of the door, looking utterly exhausted. "He doesn't need a kid from _you_ , Wuya, not when..." a tiny smile twitched the youth's lips, and his hand went of its own accord to his flat stomach, "not when _I'm_ already having one by him."

Then, as if the strain of staying awake was too much for him, he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Chase immediately stood from his throne, and was to his fallen mate's side in seconds. "Leave," he softly demanded of Wuya as he scooped his love into his arms.

"But, Chase, I—"

" _ **Leave!**_ " he roared, leaving no room for questioning, and the witch made a hasty retreat while the warlord returned GoldenDeath to their bedroom.

 

* * *

 

"So...you have conceived," the man stated more than asked.

"Yeah," his lover quietly admitted, "that's why I've been...weird, lately."

"I understand your drive to rest so often," Chase assured, "but why did you stave off any sexual contact? It wouldn't hurt the child."

The Kitavran's cheeks flushed a dark pink. "Well...you see...when a male of my race becomes pregnant, our...genitals temporarily change to become female, so we can actually give birth. I didn't want you to..."

The man sighed. "I could care less of your sexual gender, Death. You are my mate: whether you have a penis or a vagina makes no difference to me."

"I'll take that as a compliment, then," the younger chuckled, kissing the warlord affectionately.

Upon breaking away, Chase asked a very important question. "Do you know the gender of the child?"

This was a very crucial thing: if the baby was male, there could be serious complications.

As men do, it is their nature to surpass the one that came before them, their sire, and Chase Young being Chase Young, his son, if he had one, would challenge him for dominance, for control of the world.

Chase could not, and would not give that up.

Inevitably, it would result in a battle to the death, and no matter what the outcome, his GoldenDeath would be the loser.

Should the warlord win, he would have to spend centuries, perhaps even _millennia_ soothing the hurt that would come from having lost the only child the Kitavran could ever have, and he would never have the young man's trust again, at least not to the full extent that he did now, and of course there would be his own pain to deal with from having killed son with his own hands.

Should the son win, GoldenDeath would be doomed, surviving on residual magic from their binding spell for perhaps only a day or two if not dying instantly. In that case, instant death would be the mercy. Should he last any longer than the moment of Chase's death, he would be completely devastated, haunted by the knowledge that the very son he bore had killed the love of his life.

It was truly a lose-lose situation.

With a daughter, however, such a thing would be less likely to happen. Females were smarter, gentler creatures, and even if she wanted to take on her father's legacy, she would have enough foresight to know just how trying to achieve such a thing would damage her poor mother and decide against it. The child would still try to surpass her parents, but in a different field, would try to make her _own_ name for herself instead of stealing her mother or father's mantle. She wouldn't want to be known to any as daughter of Chase Young and GoldenDeath, usurper of their empire— no, a female child was more likely to want to be known as the daughter of Chase Young and GoldenDeath, a complete success in gaining her own legacy.

This one was more of a win-win situation.

"Yeah, I know," Death admitted, "but...I don't think you're going to like it."

Chase Young braced himself for news of a son.

"Y'see, there's a huge problem on Kitavra. There are way more men than women these days, and that leaves a _huge_ societal imbalance. Your Darwin's theory of natural selection went into effect a decade or so ago at an alarming rate, and so now, pregnant males will only ever produce female children."

If he knew he sighed audibly in relief, the warlord didn't care.

GoldenDeath, however, took it as a sign of disappointment, and so apologized, "I'm sorry I couldn't give you a proper heir..."

His lover only chuckled at the statement, taking the young man into his arms and assuring, "I'm glad that you didn't."

 

* * *

 

The newest generation of Xiaolin monks froze at the sight of another person suddenly in the clearing with them, standing just before the Shen Gong Wu they'd been sent to retrieve.

It was a woman, lovely in all senses of the word and a Helen of Troy had they ever seen one.

Her complexion was pale, pure as ivory and equally without blemishes of any sort. Her hair was short, but dark, the kind of black that is so deep it almost shines blue. Her eyes were of a glowing gold and had slit pupils, which seemed to match with the slight points of her ears, and beneath each eye was a black mark in the shape of a hook. She wore a short, black dress with thick bands of gold trim around the skirt and both sleeves, akin in nature to her boots, and covering her thighs were royal blue leggings, showing that though she was a shapely and beautiful woman, she was not in the habit of showing off her body.

"Who are you?" their Egyptian leader, Azizi almost breathlessly questioned.

The young woman smirked, revealing sharp fangs in her grin as she informed, "I am BlackDeath Young, and I have been sent by my father to retrieve this Shen Gong Wu from you Xiaolin monks as a test of my training..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to reiterate, this is the first thing I ever wrote. If you don't like it, I understand: I'm not a huge fan of it, either.


End file.
